


Maybe not so accidentally

by apocrypha73



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Moral Dilemmas, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 21:16:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12690372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocrypha73/pseuds/apocrypha73
Summary: An AU where the Empire got to Bahryn first, and Zeb ended up recruiting Kallus very much on purpose.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All my thanks to [redmacallan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/redmacallan/pseuds/redmacallan) for being an awesome beta. This fic wouldn't be the same without your input, I'm very lucky to be able to count on you.

 

“That’s… a ship.”

“Yeah. But whose?”

The rebel stood up and offered Kallus a hand.“Come on.”

Letting the Lasat help him to his feet and slide an arm around his back to support him should have been awkward, but by then it felt perfectly normal. Just like it felt natural for Kallus to throw an arm over the other one’s shoulders and prop himself up on his solid frame. He wasn’t bothered by the closeness, or by the fact that he was showing weakness before an enemy. One night of forced camaraderie could make wonders, apparently.

Except this newfound comfort with the rebel had nothing to do with forced camaraderie, and everything to do with Garazeb Orrelios himself. He had defied every pre-conceived notion Kallus had about him, turning out to be very far from the rebel terrorist type he had believed him to be. They’d never be friends or anything like that, of course, but Kallus was self-aware enough to admit he had acquired a new respect for this Lasat.

And that surely explained the pang of disappointment he felt when they saw the lambda class imperial shuttle landing outside their cave.

“Ah. It’s the Empire,” Zeb said, his tone resentful.

“I’m afraid so.” Kallus replied.

“So? You gonna give me away?”

Kallus surprised himself with how much he wanted to answer ‘no’ to that question. It was irrational of him, and he knew it. Hadn’t he been trying to convince Zeb to turn himself in all night? Not only that, but he had spent years trying to catch this rebel in particular. And yet, in that moment he’d have given anything for a chance to let him escape.

“I… I have to, Zeb,” he answered sadly.

“Oh, come on! I’d have given you the choice to stay behind if my friends had gotten here first! Does everything we’ve been through tonight mean nothing to you?”

“Of course it means something!” Kallus assured him in a pleading tone. “I owe you my life, I won’t forget that. But you don’t understand, they already know you’re here.”

Zeb simply shot him an accusing look, waiting for Kallus to elaborate.

“They must have scanned for life signs before deploying the shuttle,” he explained. “It’s standard protocol.”

The Lasat huffed a humorless laugh. “The Empire doesn’t waste resources, even for their own people, right?” he murmured.

Kallus ignored the comment. “My point is, if I go there alone they’ll know I’m hiding you, and that will be the end for both of us. You need to trust me, Zeb. I’ll make sure you get a fair treatment.”

“Yeah, like your word is worth shit.”

Zeb’s bitterness was understandable, but it still hurt Kallus to hear him say that.

“I promise I won’t let them simply throw you away in an imperial prison,” he insisted. “I’ll speak in your favor. What you’ve done for me here will go a long way to make your sentence more lenient. Zeb, if you don’t trust me, that’s fine, but at least trust in the Empire’s justice system.”

The Lasat stared at him with an incredulous look on his face. “Karabast, you’re even more naive than I thought,” he said, with a hint of sadness in his voice. “Either that or you’re willingly ignoring the truth, I don’t know what would be worse.”

Kallus tried to reply, but Zeb didn’t give him the chance. “Come on, there’s no point delaying it. At least, when they lock me up in a cell, I won’t have to look at your stupid face anymore.”

He made a move as if to start walking, but Kallus stopped him by placing his free hand on his chest. “Er… Zeb.”

The Lasat turned his head to look at him with a menacing frown.

“What else do you want?” he barked.

Kallus swallowed hard.

“I… I should take that,” he said, pointing to Zeb’s bo-rifle. At his companion’s indignant look, he hurried to add: “They’ll shoot you on sight if you don’t show up unarmed. Please, Zeb, this is for your own safety. And you know I’ll treat it with respect.”

He held out his hand while the rebel struggled to decide. A lot of emotions crossed his purple face as his warrior instinct battled with his reason, until eventually the latter won. He grudgingly put the weapon on Kallus’s hand, muttering that Lasat curse he was so fond of under his breath.

“I’ll want it back when this is over,” he grumbled.

“Of course,” Kallus agreed, even though he doubted they’d meet again in any kind of circumstances that allowed it. “I promise I’ll keep it safe.”

“You’re making a lot of promises today. Wonder if you’ll keep any of ‘em.”

Now that _truly_ hurt.

“I guess time will tell,” Kallus replied stiffly, his wounded pride making him try to stand straighter even in his precarious position.

They started their slow and arduous walk toward the imperial shuttle. Kallus could feel Zeb’s anger emanating from him, his disappointment and sense of betrayal. Somehow he was managing to convey all that with nothing but heavy silence and a stubborn refusal to look anywhere near Kallus’s face.

The ship lowered her ramp when they were near, to let out Lieutenant Yogar Lyste and two stormtroopers.

“It’s good to find you alive, sir!” the young man said with a smile. Then he noticed Kallus’s limp and the way he was leaning heavily on Zeb, and he pointed his blaster at the Lasat.

“You! What have you done to him? You’ll regret hurting an imperial officer, you rebel scum!”

“Calm down, lieutenant,” Kallus interrupted him. “I broke my leg in the crash, the rebel had nothing to do with it. Besides, he has surrendered. We’ll be taking him into custody.”

A stormtrooper moved forward to put the prisoner in cuffs, so Lyste took his place supporting Kallus. The agent inmediately missed Zeb’s warmth and strength. The lieutenant seemed tiny in comparison, though his eagerness to help compensated for it. Sort of.

“I apologize for the delay, sir,” the young man said as they started slowly walking up the ramp. Zeb went ahead of them, flanked by the two stormtroopers. “We had some trouble identifying your signal. It wasn’t broadcasting in the usual frequency.”

“I know,” Kallus replied. “The rebel modified the transponder in the hope that his people would pick up the signal and come rescue him. Luckily for me, you got here first.”

Kallus stealed a quick glance to Zeb’s back. He knew what the Lasat would think, but he had to act normally or Lyste would be suspicious.

_Suspicious of what, exactly?_ he asked himself. There was no reason to think that way. He was exactly the same loyal servant of the Empire that he was the day before. Nothing had changed. The momentary truce with Garazeb Orrelios was over.

But then he saw the Lasat’s shoulders tense and something nasty curled inside his stomach too. He blamed it on the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything since the day before.

“Well, I’m glad we did, then,” the lieutenant said.

They were just inside the shuttle, the ramp beginning to close behind them, when Lyste abruptly stopped dead in his tracks, nearly making Kallus stumble.

“Wait a second,” he whispered, his face lighting up. “So, if the transponder was modified to reach the rebels, that means the _Ghost_ might show up here any minute, right, sir? We could set an ambush and wait for them! You could finally catch the whole crew in the same day!”

Even in the reddish light of the ship, the fear and anger in Zeb’s face when he turned his head to stare at Kallus were perfectly visible. There was some kind of threat in the depths of those huge green eyes, a non-spoken _don’t you dare._ The agent restrained from reminding his prisoner that he was in no position to threat anyone, but he was certainly not impressed.

Lieutenant Lyste was still waiting for an answer, so he gave it to him.

“And are you willing to face them with only two stromtroopers and, I assume, a pilot, lieutenant? I’m in no shape to be of any help.” The lie fell from his lips unbidden, almost as if his mouth had a mind of its own. “The rebels won’t come anywhere near this moon while there’s a Star Destroyer in orbit. And if we ask the _Relentless_ to move to another position while we wait here, there will be no reinforcements in case things go south. We could end up losing the one prisoner we have. Frankly, I’d rather secure his capture now, and worry about his friends later. There’ll be plenty of opportunities.”

_What the hell am I doing?_ he thought, with a mild panic attack. He certainly hadn’t intended to say that. Yes, his leg was indeed throbbing with pain, but that hadn’t stopped him from doing his part of the fighting in the cave. And this was the _Ghost_ crew they were talking about. His obsession, his long lasting failure, the ultimate thorn in his side. If there was a possibility to capture them, nothing else should matter. Certainly not Zeb’s opinion.

And yet, he had just dismissed what might have been his best chance in years without a second thought.

Kallus’s gaze met Zeb’s again and there was relief in the Lasat’s face, maybe even some gratitude. A tiny spark of something warm came alive inside the agent’s chest, something that reminded him vaguely of hope.

He chalked it up to exhaustion. His leg was aching, his neck was stiff from sleeping in an awkward position, he was cold and hungry. All he wanted to do was go back to the _Relentless_ and report to medbay as soon as possible. Then he would start feeling like himself again.

“Let’s go back now, please,” he asked the lieutenant, letting his weariness seep into his voice. He didn’t even care about appearing weak anymore. If he could do it in front of a rebel, he damn well could allow himself to relax amongst his comrades.

“Oh! Of course, sir! Silly me, trying to keep you here even longer when you’re injured and obviously tired. I’m so sorry.”

Lyste carefully lowered him to a seat and then went to tell the pilot they were ready to take off. It was then that Kallus realized he was still holding the glowing meteorite in one hand, while nursing Zeb’s weapon in the other. He stared at both objects with the strange sensation that they held some meaning he wasn’t able to grasp yet, like a symbol or a milestone for something.

_Kriff, I really am exhausted,_ he said to himself, dismissing the thought as the typical nonsense of a tired brain.

He lifted his gaze to find Garazeb’s piercing eyes on him. The Lasat was sitting across from Kallus in the passenger area of the shuttle, bound hands resting on his lap and one stormtrooper at each side of him. And yet, he looked like he was the one in control of the situation.

Kallus turned away, suddenly uncomfortable. He wished for the pilot to hurry up already.

 

 

 

The familiar buzz of carefully organized activity welcomed them when they exited the shuttle in the hangar bay of the Star Destroyer.

The troopers inmediately led Garazeb away, heading for the cell block. Lyste hesitated for a moment, like he was unsure if he was supposed to follow them of stay and help Kallus. The agent made the decision for him.

“Make sure no one interrogates the prisoner while I’m having my leg checked, Lieutenant. I want to question him myself,” he ordered.

That would guarantee Zeb’s safety for now, and nobody would suspect any ulterior motives on Kallus’s part other that his professional zeal. Perhaps it was an unnecessary precaution, since, as the ISB agent assigned to the Star Destroyer, he was by default the one in charge of the interrogations. But still, it didn’t hurt to make extra sure there would be no torture for the Lasat. Kallus figured he owed him that, at least.

“Understood, sir,” the young man replied, and then he hurried away after Zeb’s tall figure.

Kallus went to his quarters first, a slow and undignified trip limping through the aseptic corridors of the Star Destroyer. He run into several stormtroopers on patrol, officers going from one place to another, even Admiral Konstantine himself. None of them offered him help or asked what was wrong with his leg. The admiral barely lifted his gaze from the datapad in his hands when he greeted Kallus. It was like the agent wasn’t even there.

Kallus felt his heart sink.

_Has it always been like this? This coldness, this detachment? Why didn’t I notice before? Am I so starved for kindness that a few hours with someone decent enough to care makes it all stand out?_

And now he’d gone and referred to a rebel as ‘decent’. That should give him a clue of how badly he needed rest and medical attention.

But in all honesty, Zeb had been decent to him. More than that, actually. He was his enemy, he had every reason to hate Kallus, and yet he had gone out of his way to keep him alive. Was it outrageous to expect a little concern about his well-being from his own comrades?

Kallus finally got to his quarters, trying very hard to ignore how empty and sterile they were. He told himself it wasn’t important anyway. This room was just a place to sleep and to keep his scarce belongings, not a home.

It had never been a home.

He opened the trunk where he kept his clothes and put Zeb’s bo-rifle there carefully, almost with reverence. Then he sat on the edge of his bed and left the glowing rock on the shelf next to it, hoping it would give the place a little bit of much-needed warmth. He undid Zeb’s makeshift cast, putting his own bo-rifle aside, and changed into a clean uniform before grabbing a couple of ration bars and starting his way again, this time to the medbay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot to redmacallan for being such a wonderful beta!

The medical droids mended Kallus’s bones in a little over two hours. He slept through most of the procedure, so by the end of it he was feeling refreshed and more in control again. The leg was still slightly stiff, but the droid told him the ache would disappear soon, provided he didn’t put too much strain on it in the next few days.

He went straight to the cell block as soon as he was released, wanting to make sure his orders had been followed.

The agent found Zeb sitting on the bench that ran along the wall of the cell, alone, looking bored but not roughened up. Kallus allowed himself a tiny sigh of relief.

“Thought you guys had forgotten I was here,” Zeb said by way of a greeting.

“Well, I know this may be a shock, but you’re not the Empire’s main priority.”

“Really? Now, that hurt my feelings.” Zeb’s sarcasm sounded lazy, like he was barely making the effort. “How’s the leg?”

“Fully healed now, thank you.”

“You’re still limping a little bit.”

Kallus was taken aback by that. Not because he felt uncomfortable showing any weakness —although he had indeed tried to hide the lingering pain —but because Zeb cared enough to notice. It brought to mind again the coldness with which his fellow imperials had received him earlier.

“It’s just a minor discomfort,” he replied, trying to discourage any ideas the Lasat might get about overpowering him and escaping. “I’ve been told it’ll be gone soon. It is to be expected, since the bone has just been mended.”

Zeb gave him a wicked smile and Kallus knew, even before the Lasat opened his mouth to speak, that he had made a mistake.

“So you came straight from the infirmary to see me? Aww, did you really miss me that much?”

Kallus bristled a little, frowning at Zeb. “I assure you, my only eagerness is to fulfill my duty to the Empire.”

“Riiiiight, your duty. And what would that be?”

“Well, to interrogate you, of course.”

“Oh, so you’re the one who’s gonna torture me?”

He made it sound almost flirty, dropping his voice to a purr. Surely an attempt to confound Kallus and distract him from his goal. And indeed, an image of the Lasat strapped to an interrogation chair flashed briefly through the agent’s mind, making his face feel hot all of a sudden.

Kallus quickly turned away, pretending to wipe an imaginary spot on the wall to hide his blush from Zeb. Better not give him the wrong idea. He was just shocked, nothing more.

“I don’t use torture,” he replied, voice carefully controlled.

“Sure you don’t.”

“No, really,” he insisted. He turned back again, once he was sure his face had gone back to a normal color, and he took a seat in front of his prisoner. “Torture is mostly useless. People will say anything to make it stop, so the information you get from it is unreliable at best. It’s a waste of time, and I hate wasting my time.”

“That’s not what Kanan says.”

The words hung heavy in the air between them. Kallus recognized an old grudge when he heard it, and this one was deeply rooted. They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, like a mutual challenge.

“I was not in charge of that interrogation, that was the Inquisitor’s job,” Kallus finally said. “I was merely allowed to be present as a courtesy.”

He didn’t know why he was explaining himself to this rebel, really. Perhaps it was some lingering feeling of connection from the night before. Or maybe it was just a matter of pride. He had come to harbor a great deal of respect for Zeb, so he couldn’t stand the idea of the Lasat thinking any less of him.

Whatever it was, at least Zeb seemed to believe him.

“Well then, I’m curious,” the Lasat said in a humorous tone, like they were having a friendly chat over a beer. ”What do you use? Manipulation? Lies? Blackmail?”

Despite himself, Kallus had to chuckle softly. “Nothing so fancy, I assure you. The truth is, everybody wants something. All I need to do is find out what it is. I give you something you want, you give me something I want. It really is that simple.”

“And what makes you think you’ve got something I want?”

Again with the flirtatious tone. The agent was starting to think Zeb had even better training in resisting interrogation than he did, what with his relentless attempts at messing with Kallus’s head.

“I already told you,” he answered, trying very hard to ignore the uneasiness pooling in his belly in response to the way Zeb was looking at him. “If you cooperate, you could get a substantial reduction of your sentence. Considering you saved my life on the ice moon, if you add some valuable information you might get out of this with a year in a minimum security prison, two at most.”

 “You mean if I tell you where our base is,” Zeb replied, all playfulness gone from his voice and face suddenly. He leaned forward with his forearms resting on his thighs, his bound hands hanging between his knees, and spoke through gritted teeth. “So you can go and slaughter my friends like you did to my people, right? Well, you can take your offer and stick it where the sun don’t shine. I’d rather rot in an imperial prison for the rest of my life.”

Kallus pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the beginning of a headache. He had known it wouldn’t be easy, but Zeb was turning out to be the most difficult prisoner he had ever questioned.

“I thought you said you had moved on from what happened on Lasan.”

“I’m allowed to move on, you’re not,” the Lasat said indignantly. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

The agent sighed. He knew it was only another one of Zeb’s tricks to divert the conversation, like he’d been trying to do —and succeeding, to Kallus’s eternal shame— from the start.

And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from answering.

“Look, I’m not proud of what I did, but your people were in open rebellion, and they weren’t exactly helpless, either,” he said in a dry tone. “They were threatening the stability of the Empire, and the peace we fought so hard to build. Even you have to admit the matter isn’t as simple as one side being evil and the other completely innocent.”

“Threatening the _peace_?!” Zeb raised his voice in anger, his cool demeanor completely gone. “What peace? For humans, you mean? We certainly didn’t know peace under the Empire’s rule! Just fear and oppression!”

“Only because you resisted,” Kallus protested. “The Empire treats everyone in the galaxy the same way.”

“Oh, really? How many non-humans does it have in its ranks?”

 _Don’t do this,_ Kallus told himself. _Don’t let him pull you into an argument. You’re supposed to be asking the questions here._

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard about Grand Admiral Thrawn,” he replied anyway. “He is one of the best commanders of our fleet and the Emperor has him in the highest regard. He is a Chiss.”

“All right, that’s one,” Zeb said, but he didn’t sound very impressed. He clearly didn’t think one exception would invalidate his argument. “Who else?”

Kallus was quiet for a moment, wracking his brain for another example. There had to be others, he was sure of it, but he couldn’t for the life of him recall any. Not in the _Relentless_ , nor in any of his previous assingments, or even in the Imperial Academy.

That… was definitely weird.

“What do you think I am, a living database? I don’t know every single officer in the Empire, but that doesn’t mean all of them are human. Of course there must be many from other species.”

But his tone was defensive, and he knew Zeb had heard it too. Indeed, the Lasat laid back against the wall with a satisfied smirk.

“Sure, why not?” he said with piercing irony.

Kallus frowned, more angry with himself than Zeb. He was supposed to be better at this. He was one of the best ISB agents the Empire had to offer, not a kid fresh out of the Academy facing his first real interrogation. It was time to remember he was a professional and get this disaster of a conversation back on track.

“Fine, then,” he said. “If you don’t want to give me the location of the rebel base, at least tell me the names of the senators who are aiding the Rebellion.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Kallus exhaled slowly, somehow managing not to lose his patience. He was feeling tired again, worn out and raw, like this messy interrogation had drained what little energy he had gathered during his stay at the infirmary. He didn’t even have the strength to stay angry anymore.

“Zeb, I’m only trying to help you,” he pleaded. The most disturbing thing was that he meant every single word. He didn’t need to pretend to be sincere, he actually was.

“If you really wanted to help me, you’d have let me stay on the ice moon,” Zeb answered just as softly.

Kallus could feel the rift between them widening almost like a physical thing, the fragile trust they had built on Bahryn shattering and scattering around in a million pieces, and it hurt as if a stray shard of that metaphorical broken trust had pierced his chest.

“I don’t think there’s any point in asking you more questions for now,” Kallus said sadly as he got up from his seat. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Please think about what I’ve told you. You stand to gain a lot if you decide to comply.”

He got no answer at all from Zeb, so he just entered the code on the panel to open the door and left the cell. Once outside, though, he turned around again.

“Have you had anything to eat?”

Zeb slowly raised his gaze from the floor to look at Kallus, even managing a small half-smile on his behalf.

“Oh, yes,” he replied. “Your baby lieutenant brought me some of those cardboard things you guys call rations. Thanks for asking.”

“Baby lieut… Do you mean Yogar Lyste?”

“Dunno his name. That kid who picked us up from the ice moon.”

Kallus nodded, making a mental note to thank Lieutenant Lyste for his diligence. “He’s a good man.”

“Let’s hope the Empire doesn’t corrupt him completely, then.”

 _Like it’s done to me? Is that what you’re implying?_ Kallus thought, with an ache in his chest. He closed the door without another word.

On the way to his quarters he passed by two communication officers, a technician doing repairs in one of the panels, and two stormtroopers patrolling the corridors.

All of them were human.

How strange that he’d never noticed before. He certainly should have, it was too big an anomaly. But perhaps he was so used to things being that way, his brain hadn’t registered there was something missing. He hadn’t even _seen_ it.

Until now, of course. Now, he couldn’t stop seeing it everywhere.

At the turn of a corner, he almost crashed into Lieutenant Lyste, who was walking in the opposite direction. He stopped a hair’s breadth from colliding with the young man and they both stepped back by reflex. The lieutenant’s face lit up when he recognized Kallus.

“Sorry, sir.”

“No, no, no, it was my fault, Lieutenant. I was distracted.”

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better already, sir.”

“Yes, thank you. By the way, I’ve just checked on the prisoner. Good job taking care of everything.”

Lyste’s chest seemed to grow two sizes all of a sudden. “Thank you, sir! Happy to be of service.”

They turned to go on their respective ways, but then Kallus stopped again and called him back.

“Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir?” the young man said, instinctively standing at attention.

“Your previous post was on Lothal, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“Were there any non-human soldiers in your garrison?”

Lyste didn’t look fazed by the odd question. He considered it carefully, taking his time to think before he answered.

“No, sir, there weren’t any.”

“And in your class at the Imperial Academy?”

“Hmm… Not that I remember, no.”

Kallus had been hoping against all hope that Lyste’s answer was different, but it didn’t really surprise him.

“Don’t you think that’s weird?” he asked the Lieutenant. “I mean, there are thousands of sentient species in the galaxy. How come only one is allowed to serve in the Imperial Military?”

Lyste shrugged. “Maybe it’s not that they’re not allowed, sir. Perhaps they don’t want to, or perhaps those who tried didn’t score enough points to get into the Academy. The exams were pretty hard.”

That made even less sense, but Kallus said nothing. They exchanged their goodbyes and went on their separate ways again.

But the agent couldn’t stop turning the issue around in his head as he walked to his quarters. So many alien systems were loyal to the Empire. It was a statistical impossibility that not a single one of their citizens wanted to join the military. As for the other theory, Kallus had spent enough time fighting rebels to know it was downright stupid. Lasats and Wookies were formidable warriors, Mon Calamari had to be the best naval officers he’d ever seen in action, and Twi’leks gave a whole new meaning to words like bravery and cunning. One would have to be very delusional to believe that not even one amongst them had proven good enough to qualify for the Imperial Academy, but someone like Admiral Konstantine had.

So maybe, just maybe, Zeb had a point. Maybe the Empire did favor humans over every other race in the galaxy.

Which was a dangerous thought if ever Kallus had one.

There was an uncomfortable feeling lodged in his stomach by the time he opened the door to his room. He wrote a brief report on Zeb’s capture and interrogation on his datapad, sent it to Admiral Konstantine and then he went straight to bed, hoping a few hours of sleep would make his uneasiness disappear.

People used to say everything looks different in the morning. He could only hope they were right.

 

 

 

 

Kallus entered the bridge two standard minutes before his shift was due to start. Admiral Konstantine was already there, his back to the room, looking through the viewport.

The big red mass of Geonosis was still visible nearby, as were its moons. Kallus’s gaze found Bahryn inmediately, feeling a spark of something unsettling at the sight of it. Almost like a part of him wanted to go back.

But that was ridiculous, of course. Surely what he was feeling was just the agitation of remembering the traumatic experience.

“Agent Kallus.”

“Admiral.”

“We’ve been summoned back to Lothal,” he said as he gave Kallus a datapad to show him the message. “I’ve already ordered to make the necessary arrangements for the transfer of the prisoner, and we’ll be going as soon as we get rid of him.”

“The transfer, sir?” asked Kallus as he lifted his gaze from the small screen, suddenly on alert. “I don’t understand. I had assumed we’d be taking him with us to Lothal for trial.”

“For _trial_?” Konstantine huffed in disgust. “He’s a Lasat. His whole kind were declared enemies of the Empire years ago. What would be the point of submitting him to trial?”

Kallus was about to protest, but instinct made him bite his tongue in the last moment. If he dared to defend Zeb in any way, he would be inmediately under suspicion. He’d be removed from any operation related to the prisoner, maybe even sent to psych evaluation. And then Zeb would be lost.

He had to try another way.

“Sir, I had hoped I’d get at least another chance to question him.”

“What for? I read your report, he’s clearly not cooperating.”

“I know, but I truly believe if I had more time…”

“We have more important matters to attend to,” the admiral said dissmisively. “Don’t worry, Agent. The rebel will have plenty of time to regret his silence while he’s working in the Kessel Mines. Or, well, maybe not _plenty_ of time, considering the life expectancy of that place, but you know what I mean.”

Kallus’s blood froze in his veins, but his extensive years of training helped him manage to keep his face neutral and his voice under control.

“Of course, sir,” he replied with a nod. “But may I request you assign me to oversee the transfer? You know I’ve been pursuing these rebels for a very long time, Admiral. I’m sure you understand my personal interest in making sure everything goes smoothly”

Konstantine studied him for a few seconds, a knowing smirk forming at the corner of his mouth.

“Very well, Agent,” he finally said. “I suppose we can manage without you for a couple of days. I’ll give the order right away. You will receive a notification with all the details in your datapad.”

“Thank you, sir. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go prepare for the trip.”

“Of course, Agent Kallus. You’re dismissed.”

Kallus nodded and turned around, walking out of the bridge with deliberately calm steps. He continued the same way through the corridors, hands behind his back and a carefully restrained expression on his face, even when his whole body was screaming at him to run.

Once the door to his quarters was safely closed behind him, though, he allowed himself a momentary breakdown.

Zeb had been right, he wasn’t going to receive any justice. He was going to be enslaved in a mine without a chance to defend himself, not because he was a rebel, but because he was a Lasat.

_No, this isn’t right. This isn’t what the Empire stands for. This is Konstantine’s pettiness at work, nothing more._

Kallus opened the trunk at the foot of his bed, where he’d put Zeb’s bo-rifle for safekeeping. The old weapon was outlined in stark contrast against the black of Kallus’s clothes, and the man could almost imagine it was looking at him reproachfully.

 _I made him a promise_ , he thought. He took out the rifle and closed the lid of the trunk.

He knew what he had to do.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Zeb wasn’t really surprised when the door of his cell opened to give way to a couple of bucketheads. But seeing Kallus behind them, his stupid helmet on and his bo-rifle strapped to his back, was more than a disappointment. It actually hurt.

He had hoped… What had he hoped, exactly? That the agent had some sense of honor hidden under all that Imperial arrogance? That he had somehow grown a conscience all of a sudden? That the fact they didn’t kill each other on the ice moon had magically turned them into friends?

 _Karabast_. He felt stupid just thinking it.

“Come on, move,” said one of the stormtroopers as he poked Zeb’s arm with the end of his blaster rifle.

“Where’re we going?” Zeb knew the question would probably cost him a slap in the face for insolence, but he wasn’t in the mood to be accommodating. He doubted the presence of these troopers meant anything good, what with Kallus dressed in full gear, his refusal to look at him and his stubborn silence. If they were going to move Zeb somewhere else to await trial, the agent would be bragging about the Empire’s fairness and squeaky-clean politics or whatever other delusions he had over the system.

But instead of a slap, the trooper decided to answer him, probably because he knew the words would sting a lot more.

“You’re going on a lovely trip to the Kessel Mines, rebel.” The metallic distortion of the helmet couldn’t hide the glee in the trooper’s voice. The guy was clearly enjoying himself and so was his partner, if his laughter was any indication. “I’m sure you’re gonna love it. It’s where your kind belongs.”

“I see,” Zeb replied calmly, shooting another reproachful look in Kallus’s direction. The agent’s face betrayed no emotion, but he still didn’t meet Zeb’s eyes. “Well, let’s go then. I’ve clearly overstayed my welcome here.”

Zeb stood up and let the imperials lead him to the hangar bay, walking with as much dignity as he was able. He knew Kallus was right behind him, and for a moment he fantasized with the idea of turning around and choking the man to death with his cuffed hands. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that he’d be dead before he could even touch the agent. Not that dying in the mines would be much better, but Zeb didn’t plan to do that either.

He would escape somehow, some day. And then he’d get his revenge on Kallus and the whole Empire.

They took him to a zeta-class long range shuttle, which made sense since Kessel was way too far from Geonosis to make the journey in a lambda-class. Zeb had never seen one of these up close before, but he’d heard they were really fast, although they had less cargo capacity. The two large fuel tanks mounted on each side of the ship were probably the reason for that.

The bucketheads made him sit in the passenger area. It was designed for troops transport, with benches that ran alongside the walls and doubled as storage compartments. Kallus sat right in front of him and took off his helmet, leaving it on the bench next to him, while the stormtroopers took positions on each side of Zeb. The agent brought the comm to his mouth, speaking for the first time since they’d picked the Lasat up from his cell.

“We’re all set back here, Lieutenant Commander,” he said to the pilot. “You may proceed when you’re ready.”

Zeb felt the engines come to life and the ship took off with barely a rattle. There was no viewport in the passenger area, but Zeb could sense the ship’s ascending trajectory. He assumed they were leaving the hangar bay and moving into space, distancing themselves from the Star Destroyer to get to a position where they could make the jump to hyperspace.

Kallus stood up and looked toward the door that lead to the cockpit. He probably had to go talk to the pilot or something like that, Zeb didn’t really care. As long as it got the agent out of his sight, Zeb would be happy.

But then, in a movement almost too fast for the eyes to catch, Kallus unclasped his bo-rifle from his back and shot one of the stormtroopers square in the chest. And before anybody had time to react, he shot the other.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stretch as Zeb looked at the two soldiers fallen at his feet, his brain trying to process what the kriff had just happened.

“DUDE, WHAT THE H-MMMPPFFF??” Kallus’s gloved hand covered Zeb’s mouth to cut him off.

“Quiet, please!” he said urgently. “I still have to take care of the pilot and co-pilot, and I need to take them by surprise! If they alert the _Relentless_ , we’re doomed!”

Zeb blinked a couple of times, still wondering if he had fallen asleep during the space trip and was dreaming all of this. Kallus tentatively removed his hand from Zeb’s mouth, looking like he was ready to put it back at the slightest hint of the Lasat raising his voice. His eyes had a frantic look about them, as if he was trying very hard not to freak out. Zeb saw him take something from his pocket and next thing he knew, the magnacuffs were open and falling to the floor.

“What the kriff are you doing?”, Zeb whispered as he rubbed his wrists.

“It’s a new sport that’s all the rage now in Coruscant!” Kallus replied with angry sarcasm. “What do you think!? I’m breaking you out, you idiot!”

He turned around and opened the storage compartment under the seat he had occupied before, to reveal Zeb’s bo-rifle neatly enclosed there. Kallus took it out and gave it to him.

It felt good to have the weapon in his hands again, its familiar weight giving him a sense of safety, but it wasn’t enough to wipe out all his doubts. He wasn’t ready to trust Kallus just yet.

“How do I know this is not a trap?”

“Look, can we leave the explanations for later?” The agent spoke urgently, the adrenaline making his voice shake a little. “We have to take control of the ship before it jumps to hyperspace and I need your help. Are you with me?”

Zeb barely needed a second to consider his options. Whatever game Kallus was playing, he would have to deal with it later. For now, the priority was to get away from the Star Destroyer’s reach. He nodded and activated the bo-rifle in staff mode, electricity cracking on both ends of it.

Kallus sighed with relief.

“All right, listen,” the agent said, keeping his voice low. “We need to go into that cockpit together and take out the two pilots at the same time. One single mistake and it’s over. If any of them has a chance to alert the _Relentless_ , we’re as good as dead.”

Zeb wasn’t completely convinced, but either Kallus was the best actor he’d ever seen, or he was truly desperate.

“Okay, I get it. What’s your plan?”

“I’ll bring them out of the cockpit. Just be ready.”

Kallus gestured for Zeb to take position on one side of the door, while he stood on the other. Then he took his comlink out of his pocket.

“Lieutenant Commander, there’s a red light flashing back here,” he said to the pilot. “I think it’s the backup shield generator.”

“I don’t see any alert on my panel, sir,” the pilot replied.

“Do you think I’m imagining this, Lieutenant Commander?” the agent said sternly. “It is indeed flashing red, that’s quite clear. This is an old shuttle, your panel might be malfunctioning.”

“Of course, sir. Sorry, sir,” the pilot answered in a nervous tone. “I’ll send Lieutenant Ravis to check it right away, sir.”

The door slid open to let the co-pilot out. He took a couple of steps into the passenger area, oblivious to the two imposing figures lurking on both sides of the threshold he’d just crossed. He saw the two dead stormtroopers on the floor and froze, but he didn’t have time to say anything. Zeb hit him with his bo-rifle and the electric charge made him seize and fall down. When the Lasat turned his head to see how Kallus was doing, he saw the agent dragging the other pilot’s limp body from his chair and out of the cockpit. Then he crouched next to the co-pilot and, taking off one glove, checked him for a pulse. He groaned.

“You set your rifle to stun, didn’t you?” he said in an exasperated tone, like he already knew the answer. Zeb saw him shake his head, his mouth set in a hard gesture, and then he shot the pilot point blank.

“Karabast!” Zeb jumped back reflexively, horrified. “Was that really necessary?”

“I am stealing an Imperial ship to help a rebel prisoner escape, of course it’s necessary! I can’t afford to leave any witnesses behind!” He sounded annoyed, but he kept his voice carefully controlled. There was an air of determination about him that Zeb knew all too well from going up against him on the battlefield: he had set his mind on a mission and his focus was absolute.

Kallus got to his feet and went into the cockpit before Zeb could reply to that. The Lasat followed him, taking the co-pilot’s chair.

“Look, spare me the moral superiority,” the agent said without looking at him, frantically pushing buttons in the navigation computer. “It’s not like you don’t have blood on your hands.”

“Maybe, but at least they’re not my own people.”

“Luckily for you, I am willing to do what needs to be done.”

“You’re a cold bastard, ain’t ya?”

This time, Kallus did raise his gaze to meet Zeb’s, with a mix of hurt and irritation.

“Would you rather I had let them take you to those mines?”, he said impatiently.

Zeb didn’t answer. He tried to imagine what he would have done if their positions had been reversed, but the mere idea of the Rebellion doing to Kallus —or any other prisoner for that matter— what the Empire had tried to do to Zeb was ridiculous.

Then he remembered Saw Gerrera and his certainty wavered a little bit.

“Okay, forget it,” he said, pushing the matter aside. They could have a debate about ethics when they were safely away from the Empire. “Let’s get out of here.”

Zeb stretched his hand to turn off the transponder —Hera and Kanan would be so proud of him for remembering this time—, but Kallus grabbed his wrist in the last moment. “No, wait!”

They both froze for a second, looking into each other’s eyes. On Zeb’s part, with surprise; on Kallus’s, with straight up fear.

“The second the transponder goes off, they’ll know something’s wrong,” he explained slowly. “I need to finish the calculations for our hyperspace jump first. I’ll tell you when to do it, okay?”

Zeb nodded and backed down slowly. His hand brushed Kallus’s as they separated, leaving a tingling sensation on his skin that wouldn’t go away. He sent a furtive look in the agent’s direction, taking in his stark profile: the brow furrowed in concentration, the sharp nose, the luscious mouth pressed into a thin line as he fussed with the computer. A strand of blonde hair had come loose and was falling over his forehead, and he pulled it back with an impatient gesture.

Yeah, the guy was handsome.

And this was probably the worst possible moment in their whole shared history to notice that.

But damn, the way he had taken down those stormtroopers to rescue Zeb. That was some straight up romance holo shit. He couldn’t be blamed for a little moment of weakness, right?

“We’re ready,” Kallus announced. “Turn the transponder off now.”

Zeb did it, and the agent pulled the lever of the hyperdrive almost simultaneously. The stars melted into long lines and they left the Star Destroyer behind, jumping into the iridescent colors of hyperspace.

They both exhaled a sigh of relief at the same time. For a few seconds, all that could be heard inside the cockpit were Kallus’s and Zeb’s harsh breathing. Slowly, they turned to look at each other.

“So. We made it. Now what?” Zeb asked.

Kallus arched his eyebrows in a noncommittal gesture.

“That’s… an excellent question.”

Something in his tone put Zeb’s senses on alert. “Wait. You mean you haven’t planned it? What kind of rescue is this?”

“I had to improvise a bit, okay?” Kallus replied defensively. “I only knew about your transfer about an hour before it happened. You can count yourself lucky that I had time to hide your bo-rifle in the shuttle.”

Zeb leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, and sighed with resignation.

“All right, then,” he said. “What are our options?”

Kallus turned slightly in his chair to face him. “Well, obviously you cannot tell me where the rebel base is, because I’d be compelled to reveal it to my superiors upon my return, so delivering you directly to your friends is out of the question.”

“Damn right I’m not telling you…” The rest of the phrase registered in his brain just then and he did a double take. “Wait, what? You’re going _back_?”

The agent looked at Zeb in confusion, like the question made no sense. “Of course I’m going back, why do you…” Realization dawned on his face then, and he raised his eyebrows. “Oh. You thought I was defecting?”

Zeb shrugged, letting his hands fall to his lap in a _‘well, duh’_ kind of gesture. “Aren’t you? I mean, doesn’t this kind of thing tend to get you executed for treason?”

“Not if I blame you for everything,” Kallus replied matter-of-factly. “There are no other witnesses, so they’ll have to take my word for it. I’ll tell them you somehow managed to get free from the handcuffs and overpowered us. That you killed everyone except me, because you needed a hostage, but I escaped when you were distracted. I’ll get reprimanded for my negligence, sure, but that will be all.”

Zeb just stared at him incredulously, slowly shaking his head.

“Mate, that’s the lousiest plan I’ve ever heard in my life, and let me remind you that I work with Ezra Bridger,” he said. “You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“That is no concern of yours,” Kallus answered softly, averting his gaze. “You saved my life on that moon, now I’ve saved yours. We’re even.”

They would never be even, but Zeb was sensible enough not to bring up Lasan again. There had been more than enough old wounds reopened in the last few days. Besides, this was starting to feel like Bahryn all over again —minus the cold, thank the Ashla— and he didn’t want to ruin it.

To be fair, Zeb had to admit Kallus had a point. They’d helped each other and now they could go on their separate ways, back to mortal enemies as usual. If the Empire decided to execute his arrogant ass they’d be doing the Rebellion a favor, so why should he care?

But he did care. It would be pointless to deny it, and Zeb was not prone to lying to himself anyway. He didn’t want Kallus dead.

“Seriously, Kallus?” he insisted. “After seeing what you’ve seen? I was right about them and you know it. How can you even want to go back?”

Kallus sighed. “Zeb, what they were going to do to you… That was Konstantine’s decision, not the way the Empire works. He’s a mean little man, and sure, there are others like him, but that doesn’t mean the whole system is rotten. I believe in the Emperor’s vision of a galaxy in peace, and I want to do my part in building it.”

“Except Palpatine’s idea of peace is having everyone under his boot,” Zeb replied sadly. “But you don’t wanna see that, do you?”

They exchanged an intense look, and Zeb felt a dull ache in his chest at the realization that nothing had changed, not really. He had hoped this whole stunt meant that Kallus had finally opened his eyes and seen the Empire for what it actually was, that maybe he had left them for good. Alas, he’d been completely wrong.

It shouldn’t be as disappointing as it was.

But he _was_ disappointed. He was angry, even. Before Bahryn and before this crazy, daring rescue, he hadn’t known there was more to Kallus than the ruthless Imperial agent who was trying to make his life a living hell. But now he knew. He’d seen that softer, more honorable side of him: his commitment, his bravery, his determination. It was a shame that his loyalties were so misguided. There was so much in this man that was worth saving.

And the weirdest thing of all? Kallus was looking at him with the same kind of longing in his eyes, like it pained him not to be able to make an upstanding Imperial citizen out of Zeb.

They might respect each other and even like each other to a certain extent, but the breach between them ran too deep and wide.

Then again, Zeb had always loved a good challenge.

“Okay, let´s leave politics aside for a second,” he said. “What are we gonna do?”

Kallus relaxed in his chair, somehow mimicking Zeb’s posture. “I had thought we could go to a planet with little or no Imperial presence, and then find a way for you to contact your friends and have them pick you up.”

“What, so you and your Imperial buddies can set a nice ambush for them when they show up? No way.”

“What are you talking about?” Kallus protested with a frown, his voice pitched high with indignation. “I’ve risked my life to save you! And you still don’t trust me?”

“Of course I don’t trust you! This whole thing could be a set up for all I know! I’m sure as hell not gonna bring my friends to you.”

Kallus threw his hands in the air in an exasperated gesture. “Great. That’s just great. All right, then, what do you propose we do?”

Zeb shrugged and crossed his arms again, noticing that Kallus’s eyes immediately zoomed on his bulging bicep. The man averted his gaze quickly, but not quickly enough. Zeb allowed himself a satisfied half-smirk.

“I dunno,” he answered. “I guess you could drop me off in any planet and leave. I’d find a way to get outta there and go somewhere else, unknown to you. Then I could arrange for a pick up.”

“Are you nuts? I’m not abandoning you on some backwater rathole alone, without food or money! Do you think I went through all this trouble just to leave you for dead one second later?”

“And why did you?”

“What?” Kallus asked with a mixture of confusion and impatience, the remains of his cold self-control completely gone. He looked like he couldn’t fathom why Zeb had to be so difficult and wouldn’t just follow his plan.

The Lasat leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees and his eyes glued to the agent’s with intent. “Why did you go through all that trouble to save me?”

Kallus’s face instantly sobered and he swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Because I made you a promise.”

They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, in what was half a challenge to the other and half pure enthrallment. Zeb straightened up in his chair without taking his eyes from the agent, and when he spoke again his tone was final.

“That sounds nice and all, but it’s not enough to make me trust you. Until I know for sure what game you’re playing, I’m not gonna take any chances. So, if I’m not bringing my friends anywhere near you and you’re not gonna leave me to fend for myself, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for now.”

The man blinked a couple of times, almost like he had a hard time believing what he’d just heard. Then he rolled his eyes, lifting his hands and letting them fall on his lap again with an air of defeat.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he groaned.


	4. Chapter 4

Zeb wasn’t sure how he had expected Kallus to react to the situation, but he definitely hadn’t anticipated that his first move would be to pull the ship out of hyperspace immediately.

“What, you’ve changed your mind?” Zeb half joked. “You gonna take me back to your people after all?”

“No, but if we’re going to be fugitives of the Empire together, we need to plan things more carefully,” he grumbled. 

Zeb couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Wow. It didn’t take too much convincing, huh?”

“Do I have a choice?” Kallus replied sulkily. “Come on, stop gloating and let’s get to work. For starters, we can’t go round the Outer Rim in an Imperial shuttle. We need to get another ship.”

Zeb decided to take pity on him. Pissing Kallus off was really fun, but they had more pressing concerns at the moment. “Okay. Where are we?”

“I’m not sure, let me see…”

Kallus pressed a button on the console to bring up the chart for their sector. “Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

“Apparently, we’re close to Tatooine,” Kallus said. “That could be interesting.”

“Because there’s no Imperial base on Tatooine.”

“Correct.”

Zeb straightened his neck to try and see through the viewport. There it was, the desert planet with its twin suns, still a good distance away but clearly visible to their right. If there was a perfect place to discreetly trade some maybe-not-exactly-legal goods, this was it. The lack of Imperial presence made it every smuggler’s favorite spot in the Outer Rim, provided they were willing to abide by the Hutt Clan’s rules.

“Always wondered why that was,” Zeb asked in a contemplative tone. “I know this place is mostly sand and there’s nothing of value for the Empire to plunder, but aren’t you guys supposed to clean the galaxy of criminals and protect its good citizens and shit?”

Kallus looked at him sideways, almost like he was considering scolding him for his language, but in the end he simply answered the question. “The official explanation is an agreement with the Hutts,” he said as he pulled levers and switches, correcting the ship’s course. “But there’s always gossip among the ranks. Rumor says Lord Vader hates this place for some unknown reason.”

“Well, whatever it is, I’m not complaining.”

“It’s certainly very convenient for us,” Kallus agreed.

“Yeah, almost too convenient,” Zeb said in mock suspicion.

“If you say the Force guided us here, I’ll throw you out the airlock.”

Kallus’s dry remark made Zeb huff out a laugh almost against his will. “I was rather thinking maybe  _ you _ set this whole thing up,” he shot back, pointing his finger at the agent in an exaggerated gesture.

“Oh, sure, I anticipated you would be so stubborn that you’d refuse to go back to your dear crew, instead suggesting we should go on a sightseeing tour of the Outer Rim,” Kallus deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You fell right into my trap.”

“I dunno. I’m thinking you agreed to go planet hopping with me a little too quickly. Maybe you figured it out with your evil Imperial powers of deduction. Or maybe you had a plan for every possible scenario.”

He was mostly joking, but as he said it the idea started to take root in his mind like a venomous vine. This was Agent Kallus, after all. In the past he had set the most twisted traps one could possibly imagine for Zeb and his friends. What if this whole thing was just another one of his tricks? A very risky, very complicated, highly-depending-on-chance trick? He didn’t want to believe it was, but that was precisely the problem, wasn’t it? He  _ wanted  _ to believe Kallus had changed, and that could potentially cloud his judgement. He couldn’t afford to be too trusting, not when this man was involved.

Kallus sighed with exasperation. “Remind me again why I saved your annoying ass?”

“Because your life would be way too boring without me.”

And there it was. A smile, a genuine one, pulling at the corners of Kallus’s mouth no matter how hard he was fighting to contain it. He gave up eventually, shaking his head with fond exasperation.

“You know…” he said, with a sidelong glance in Zeb’s direction, “there may be some truth in that.”

Something warm and cozy surged in Zeb’s heart at the sight of that grin and the sound of those words, a feeling that made it very difficult to hold on to his previous suspicion. Whatever reasons had brought Kallus to do what he had done, Zeb couldn’t believe he was faking this. Not this moment. This, if nothing else, was real.

And honestly, what else could Zeb do but return Kallus’s smile with one of his own?

“Also, I got a great ass,” he added, because he just couldn’t help himself. “Totally worth saving.”

This time, Kallus had to laugh out loud.

 

 

* * *

  
  


They landed by a system of caves in the middle of the desert, a couple of miles outside of Mos Espa.

Approaching the capital undetected had been quite a challenge, considering they were flying on a big-ass ship with a huge Imperial logo on its side. Not exactly the most inconspicuous of ways to arrive anywhere. They could have chosen a smaller and less risky settlement, but as the biggest spaceport in the planet, Mos Espa offered the best possibilities for trading.

And they desperately needed to trade. Neither Zeb nor Kallus had a single credit on them, and they knew it was fair to assume the Empire was already monitoring Kallus’s account, so no hopes of getting any money from there.

“Tell me you’re not thinking ‘bout trying to sell this bird to the Hutts or anything like that,” Zeb grumbled as soon as the motors stopped.

“Of course not, I’m not suicidal,” Kallus replied. “I’m not going anywhere near the Hutt Clan if I can avoid it. I was going to propose we strip this ship of every useful part it has and sell them separately. Who knows, maybe we can even get more money that way.”

“That’s what I was thinking too.”

“Great, let’s get to it, then.”

They found a toolbox and set to work dismantling every component that might be valuable. Hyperdrive, shield generators, power cells, stabilizers… If it could be taken apart and carried, it probably was worth something. 

Five minutes into this task, Kallus was already sweating like a monkey-lizard in a nest of gundarks. The thick fabric of his ISB uniform wasn’t made for Tatooine’s weather, that was for sure. He took off his armor plate, but it didn’t seem to help much with the issue.

“Do you mind if I…” he asked Zeb in a pitiful tone, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Nah, go ahead,” the Lasat replied.

Kallus pulled the garment over his head, tossing it aside with a sigh of relief. He was wearing a grey tank top underneath, the fabric wet and sticking to his back and chest. Zeb took a peek while the man was facing away from him, letting his gaze roam over the broad shoulders, well-defined arms and slim waist. He’d always known Kallus was in great physical shape, he had the scars to prove it, but there was knowing it and then there was  _ seeing _ it.

Zeb’s pulse quickened and he felt a wave of heat that had nothing to do with the desert temperatures. Kallus turned around just when the Lasat was adjusting the collar of his jumpsuit.

“This heat is unbearable,” the agent complained as he went back to work, completely misjudging the source of Zeb’s discomfort. “First it was the extreme cold on Bahryn and now this. Do you think we’ll ever get to visit a place with nice weather?”

Zeb gave him a half-smirk. “Third time’s the charm?”

“I’ll drink to that,” Kallus said. “And by the way, I’ll go get some water. We’re both needing it.”

He went to the storage area and returned a few seconds later with a couple of water packs. He tossed one to Zeb and opened the other, drinking it in one go. The sight of his throat working almost had the Lasat choking on his own water.

_ Get a grip, Orrelios _ , he thought, trying to focus on the work.  _ You’re getting distracted. Don’t forget he’s an imp _ .

Between the two of them they got to dismantle most of the ship’s systems in a few hours, gathering all the valuable parts in a crate. Now it was only a matter of carrying it to Mos Espa.

“Pity we don’t have a speeder,” Zeb said when they finished. He was watching as Kallus burned out the crate’s Imperial symbol with his bo-rifle.

“At least this thing has repulsors,” was the agent’s answer. He retrieved his black shirt from the floor and started to put it on.

“What, you’re wearing your uniform again? It’s a good hike from here to Mos Espa, you’re gonna cook yourself inside that thing.”

“Believe me, getting sunburnt would be much worse,” the agent explained as he passed the shirt over his head. “It’s happened to me before, and it is no fun.”

“Yeah, well, the heat’s not the only problem. You look way too Imperial. It’s like walking with a target painted on your back.”

“It’s not like I have a lot of choices on that department, don’t you think? The only wardrobe options in this ship are Imperial officer uniform, Imperial pilot jumpsuit or Imperial stormtrooper armor. Mine is actually the most generic out of the three, at least without the breastplate.”

“Still screams ‘Empire’ from a mile away. Can’t you… I dunno, maybe rip off the sleeves or something? To give it a more relaxed vibe?”

“No way. Sunburn, remember?”

“You’ll get burned by something far worse if someone recognizes you for an Imperial officer. You need to lighten up your looks, I’m serious. Let me think… Is there any spray paint on this ship?”

“I seriously doubt it.”

“Yeah, and I’m no Sabine either…  Hmm. How would you feel about shaving that… whatever the kriff you call that thing on your face?”

“My beard?” Kallus replied in a high pitched tone, taking a step back and actually covering his jaw with his hand in a protective gesture, as if Zeb had come at him with a razor.

“No, that’s not a beard, don’t even try to call it that. But my point is, it’s a pretty distinctive feature, ya know? If the Empire has put out a search warrant for you, that thing ‘s gonna be in every description they broadcast.”

“I don’t care. I’m not shaving it.” 

Zeb rolled his eyes. “All right, no shaving, I get it. But we have to do something.”

He studied Kallus intently, hand on his chin and all, looking up and down until the agent started fidgeting.

“Okay, maybe if…,” Zeb murmured, and then he threaded his fingers through Kallus’s hair, too quick for the man to stop him, thoroughly messing it.

“Ouch! Stop! Don’t…! What the hell are you doing?!” Kallus protested, batting Zeb’s hands away. He tried to comb his hair back with his own hands, glaring at the Lasat indignantly.

“That’s a little better,” Zeb replied, trying not to laugh too much. Kallus’s hair was sticking in every possible direction, loose strands falling over his forehead and temples while he furiously attempted to make it behave.

But Zeb wasn’t lying, it did look better. Less rigid, more natural. It was a good look on him.

“Seriously?!” the agent kept ranting. “That’s your solution?! Oh, sure, I’m walking with a seven-foot tall purple alien, but of course  _ this _ …” he pointed an angry finger at his own head, “…is going to make me invisible!”

Zeb smirked at him, hands on his hips. “You’ve never been to Tatooine before, have ya?”

“No, I haven’t!”

“Well, then, trust me on this: if one of us is gonna stick out like a sore thumb in this crowd, s’not gonna be me.”

Kallus kept staring at him with all kinds of threats written in his eyes, breathing heavily, but something of what Zeb had said must have passed through his defenses and actually been processed by his brain, because he calmed down after a few seconds.

“All right, let’s get this over with,” he finally said, combing his fingers through his hair again with a strength that made it clear he was only giving in for the sake of peace, but he was still very much outraged.

They stuffed their pockets with rations and more water, then decided to keep one of the shuttle’s fuel pods in case they needed it for the ship they were supposed to buy. Zeb hid it inside one of the nearby caves and then, once they’d taken everything they could use, the two of them pointed their rifles at the other fuel pod and blasted away the ship, dead bodies and all, to erase their trail completely.

It was kind of satisfying to see the Imperial logo burn, but at the same time it was a bit intimidating. They had just destroyed their only means of getting out of the planet. Zeb exchanged a glance with Kallus, and something in the man’s eyes told him he was thinking the same thing.

“Here goes nothing,” Kallus said, and they started walking towards the city.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t too hard to find the shopping district once they got to town, since most of it was arranged around the massive shape of the Mos Espa Grand Arena.

They walked together through narrow streets that gradually became wider and more packed with pedestrians as they got near the marketplace. Just as Zeb had predicted, there were beings of all kinds of species filling the streets, going on about their business, most of them dressed in sandy tones, beiges, and light browns. Kallus’s black outfit was the anomaly, and he must have realized it too, because he moved closer to Zeb like he wanted to hide in his shadow.

Most of the hardware stores they needed to visit were located in the same street. Zeb soon discovered that Kallus was a fierce negotiator, acting like he didn’t need to sell their merchandise and was actually doing the shop owners a favor. He even pretended to call the deal off every time a potential buyer offered a price that he deemed too low.

At first, Zeb was worried that someone was going to call off his bluff, but no one did. Probably because the components they were trying to sell were in mint condition, far better than anything these people had seen in years —the Empire’s anal-retentive attention to detail had to be useful every once in a while, after all. Kallus knew it, and he played with that advantage. But more importantly, the shop owners knew it too.

By the third shop they entered, Zeb had decided to assume the role of the muscle, standing quietly behind Kallus’s shoulder with his arms crossed and a scowl firmly planted on his face while the agent took care of the bargaining. It proved quite useful, actually. Whenever an argument over prices started to get out of hand, he just had to growl a little and the owners tended to agree to their terms pretty quickly.

Besides, listening to these guys insulting Kallus in their own languages, under the assumption that neither of them could understand, was the most fun he’d had ever since he stepped into that escape pod on Geonosis.

“What was that? What did he say?” Kallus asked Zeb as they were leaving the fourth store.

“Literally?  _ ‘I hope you get fucked by an angry bantha,’ _ ” he replied. “I think it’s safe to say this guy hates your guts.”

“Oh.” Kallus arched his eyebrows, turning his head to look back at the shop’s door with admiration. “That’s quite a formidable insult. I feel more proud than offended, to be honest.”

Zeb roared a laugh, and they continued down the street in search of their next potential customer. As they walked by a public comm station, however, Zeb was hit by a sudden idea that made him stop abruptly.

“Zeb? What’s wrong?” asked Kallus. When he received no answer, he followed the direction of the Lasat’s gaze and realization dawned on his face a second later.

“You want to send a message to your friends, don’t you?” he said softly.

Zeb nodded. “They must be worried sick, not knowing what’s happened to me. I can’t make a live call ‘cause they’d trace it, but maybe I can send them a recorded holo. Just to show them I’m fine.”

Slowly, Kallus opened the bag where they’d been collecting their money and put a few credits on Zeb’s hand.

“Go,” he said. “I’ll wait here.”

He squeezed Zeb’s shoulder to encourage him and the Lasat replied with a grateful smile, before turning around and disappearing into the comm station.

The clerk at the reception desk was a male Twi’lek with brilliant blue skin, who kindly led Zeb to a booth and insisted on giving him the standard instructions, even if he didn’t need them.

Once he was alone, Zeb began recording immediately.

“Hey, guys, it’s me,” he started, realizing he hadn’t really prepared what he was going to say. “I’m okay, you all can stop worrying now. I’m sorry I’ve had you in the dark like this, I wish I could’ve got in contact sooner. Things have been a little bit complicated.”

He scratched the back of his head, not knowing where to begin or what he could tell them without giving too much away.

“I suppose you’ll be wondering what happened. Well, it’s a long story, but I’ll give you the short version. I got stranded in one of the moons around Geonosis with Kallus. It was a pretty tough place, so instead of fighting we agreed to work together to survive the night. I ended up saving his life somehow, can you believe that?”

He gave a sheepish look to the camera. 

“Yeah, me neither. But it happened, and I guess the guy thought he owed me, ‘cause when the Empire tried to screw me over after we were rescued, he helped me escape. No, wait, that’s not exactly right. He escaped with me.”

Zeb took a deep breath, trying to picture his friend’s faces when they heard that. This wouldn’t sit well with them, he was sure, but it wasn’t like he could blame them. They hadn’t been in Bahryn, or in that shuttle when Kallus rescued him. They hadn’t seen how different the agent was now.

“You could say we have a truce of some sorts. I know, I know, it’s weird. I don’t trust him either. That’s why I can’t come home just yet, you see? I’m not gonna let him anywhere near the base or any of you. Not until I know for sure what his deal is.”

He looked directly into the camera and smiled as reassuringly as he could.

“But anyway, now you know I’m fine. That’s all I wanted. I’ll be back as soon as I can, but I dunno when that will be. I hope it’s not too long. Gotta go now. Miss you, guys.”

Zeb ended the recording before his voice broke completely. Oh, boy, did he miss them. Saying it aloud had brought it all to the surface again, to the point where it had become a physical pain in his chest. This was his family, and he knew how terrified they must be, not knowing where he was or if he was even alive. Just as he would, if it had been any of them missing. He felt his eyes sting and he closed them for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.

_ It’s all right, this won’t last forever. I’ll see them again soon enough, but for now I have to protect them. _

At least this message would soothe their worries a little bit. That would have to be enough.

Once he got himself under control, he checked the recording to make sure the size of the file wasn’t too big for a transmission. Then he encrypted it and sent it using the Fulcrum frequency, so that it couldn’t be traced back to the point of origin.

When he came out of the comm station, Kallus was nowhere to be seen.

“Karabast,” Zeb grumbled, turning his head left and right to try and find him in the crowd.

_ The bastard has ditched me to go get his Imperial friends, hasn’t he? I should have known. How could I be so stupid? They’re probably gonna take over the comm station to try and trace the transmission. That sneaky little shit. If I ever lay eyes on him again, I’ll strangle him with my own bare… _

“Zeb?”

He whipped his head back at the sound of his name to find Kallus standing right in front of him, under the shadow of the next building. He’d been there the whole time, but Zeb hadn’t recognized him because the black uniform was gone and instead he was wearing brown pants, an ochre t-shirt and a grey-green jacket. 

The man spread his arms slightly, with a lopsided grin. “Better now?”

Zeb could barely believe his own eyes. Better? He looked comfortable and relaxed, so unlike his stern Imperial persona that they could have been two different people. The clothes were obviously not new, and they fit him like he’d been wearing them for years. The only thing he’d kept from his former outfit were the boots.

He looked like a rebel.

And Zeb had the sudden urge to grab him by the lapels of that jacket and kiss him stupid.

He quickly shook that thought away. “Where did you get those?”

Kallus pointed to a door behind Zeb. “There’s a second-hand store right there. I went to see if I could sell them something while I was waiting for you, but ended up getting these clothes instead. Now I don’t stick out so much, do I?”

Zeb opened his mouth to speak, but it was suddenly too dry to let out any sound. He nodded awkwardly, coughing to get his throat to work again.

“It’ll do,” he answered, desperately looking for a change of subject. “Come on, we should try to sell the rest of the parts before nightfall, and the suns are going down already.”

The owner of the next shop agreed to buy the two pieces they had left, so Zeb decided to add the crate as a bonus, since they wouldn’t be needing it anymore. All in all it had been quite a productive day, but they still had to buy a ship if they wanted to get out of the planet, and there was no way they’d be able to do it this late in the afternoon. The shops were already closing.

“Could you recommend a decent place to spend the night?” Kallus asked the merchant, an elderly Ithorian with a voice like gravel rubbing on sandpaper. “Not too expensive, if possible.”

“Sure, go to Mavarian’s. It’s just around the corner to the left,” he answered. “The place isn’t anything fancy, but it’s clean and she won’t try to rob you.”

“That’s… reassuring,” Kallus said, exchanging a worried glance with Zeb. Well, if he had thought that ‘ _ not getting robbed by your host’ _ was a minimum standard that could be taken for granted, he didn’t know much about the Outer Rim.

They thanked the Ithorian and headed for the inn. Actually, ‘inn’ might have been too big a word. It was more like a cantina with four or five rooms for rent in the upper floor. This Mavarian they’d been told to look for was a human woman who appeared to be in her early fifties, though it was difficult to guess her age with the premature wrinkles Tatooine’s harsh suns had put on her face. Her smile was kind, and her curvy frame had something motherly about it, something that made you think of home when you saw her. Zeb liked her instantly, and judging by the amount of patrons filling the tables in the dining room, he had a feeling he was going to like her cooking too.

“Hello, madam,” Kallus said politely as they went up to the bar. “We were wondering if you would have rooms available for the night.”

“Sure thing, honey,” she replied. “This isn’t a very busy time around here, you’ll even get to choose. Do you prefer two single rooms or a double?”

Kallus sent an apologetic look in Zeb’s direction as he answered. “I think double will be fine.”

“Perfect. One bed or two?”

“Two,” they both said, speaking at the same time and way too quickly.

Mavarian eyed them with mild surprise, then she smiled to herself as she handed them a plastoid card. “Very well, here’s your key. It’s room number three. Breakfast is included in the price of the room, dinner is not. You have to pay up front, please.”

The room wasn’t very big, but it was clean and had a small bathroom attached, so as far as Zeb was concerned, it was luxurious. Kallus seemed to approve of it, too, if his face was any indication.

“Any preference?” the agent said, pointing to the two beds lined up under the small window, separated by a little shelf on the wall that acted as bedside table. When Zeb shrugged, he took off his jacket and dropped it on the bed closer to the door. The ochre t-shirt he was wearing underneath was short-sleeved, because of course it was.

So much for not getting distracted.

“I’m sorry for making you share a room,” Kallus apologized, “but we have to be careful with how we spend the money, and this is cheaper.”

“It’s ok, I’m used to it,” Zeb replied, thinking of Ezra. “At least you’re not complaining about the way I smell.”

Kallus eyed him curiously. “Well, to be honest, we are both in desperate need of a shower right now, if that’s what you mean. Do you want to go first, by the way?”

“If you don’t mind.”

The man made a _‘go ahead’_ kind of gesture and Zeb went into the fresher gratefully.

The shower was sonic, but he hadn’t really expected anything else in a place where water was so scarce they needed actual farms to collect it. There was also a small sonic clothes washer, which was a relief because it meant he wouldn’t have to put on a sweaty, dirty jumpsuit after cleaning himself.

He was done in just a few minutes, and then it was Kallus’s turn. When the man came back, he was wearing nothing but his grey boxers and tank top, and Zeb almost had a heart attack.

“Wh… What the kriff is that? Why aren’t you dressed?”

Kallus sent him a puzzled look. “Why, are we going out again?”

“Yes, we are!” Zeb replied nervously. “We still have to eat, don’t we?”

“But we’ve got rations here.”

“Rations? Are you out of your mind? We can get real food for once, and by the looks of this place, I think it’s gonna be pretty good. Aren’t you tired of rations?”

Kallus shrugged noncommittally. “It’s all I’ve been eating since I left the Academy,” he said.

“What?!”

The man ran a hand through his hair to push it back. He had obviously tried to comb it in his usual style, but since there was no trace of product left in his head, some blonde strands fell naturally to his temples, softening his features. He crossed the room to go sit on his bed, under Zeb’s incredulous gaze.

“Officers in Star Destroyers feed on protein shakes and ration bars,” he explained. “It’s more efficient and less distracting.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Zeb remarked sarcastically.

Kallus gave him a brief smile. “It’s actually kind of a running joke among the ranks that officers on leave don’t go looking for drinks or sex, they go looking for food. Well, those who do take leave, at least.”

He must have noticed the way Zeb raised his eyebrows, because he added: “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not forbidden. It’s just strongly implied that it goes against showing true commitment to the Empire. So I never did.”

“Wait, are you trying to tell me you haven’t had a day off or tasted real food for… how long?”

The agent took a quick moment to think back. “I think it’s been twenty years, give or take.” He didn’t even sound resentful, or particularly proud of himself, either. He was simply stating a fact.

Zeb shook his head in disbelief. “Then it’s about damn time. Come on, put your pants back on. We’re going out for dinner.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I need to add a little disclaimer here concerning Kallus's age. Canon is a little confusing, to put it mildly, when it comes to this subject. I decided to go with the "official" version from the Star Wars Rebels Visual Guide (Yes, I own that book, don't judge me. I can say I totally bought it for my kids and you'll believe me, right?), simply because I like the idea of him and Zeb being close in age. So, assuming Kallus is a couple of years younger than Zeb, he should have been born around 42 BBY, which would have made him 20 years old when the Clone Wars started.

Mavarian’s cantina was clearly the most popular place in this part of Mos Espa. 

The place was noisy as hell, the sounds of laughter and songs filling the air all over the room, but thankfully she led them to a table that was next to the bar, near the entrance to the kitchen and storage room, and therefore a little apart from the main area.

“I’m afraid the menu is not very long, boys,” she said joyfully. “I only serve the dish of the day, but people seem to like it, so I hope you’ll give it a try.”

“Whatever you have will be more than fine, I’m sure,” Zeb answered kindly.

“That’s the spirit, I like you. I’ll be back in a moment.”

She went into the kitchen and returned a couple of minutes later with a heavy tray carrying two bowls of a thick vegetable soup, a small basket with bread and a plate loaded with slices of meat and some kind of cheese. She put it all before them and then brought two glasses and a jar of home-made red wine that she’d poured from a barrel.

“Enjoy,” she said before leaving them.

“Well, here we go,” Zeb said. “Your first real meal in almost twenty years. Come on, dig in.”

Kallus was watching the display like it was the most fascinating thing in the galaxy, even briefly closing his eyes when the delicious smell of the soup hit his aristocratic nose. He picked up the spoon and tentatively dipped it in the bowl, moving the contents around, until he finally decided to give it a little sip.

“Hm,” he murmured, a discreet, pleasant sound. Then he took the spoon properly into his mouth and the way his face lit up made Zeb’s heart swell in empathy.

“I have to admit it,” the agent said, the ghost of a smile dancing on his lips. “This is really good.”

Zeb laughed in response and tried his soup too. It was more than good, it was amazing. Warm and comforting in a way no protein shake could ever aspire to be. And the taste was a lot better than anyone would have expected in a place like this, so far from the Core Worlds and the trade routes. Kallus could count himself lucky that his return to real food after such a long time had happened here, and not in any of those shitty flophouses the Outer Rim territories were full of.

Zeb felt oddly happy about that.

Watching Kallus enjoy the food was kind of sweet, to be honest. He ate slowly, taking his time to enjoy the taste and texture of the food in his mouth like he was making a wonderful discovery. In a sense it was like in Bahryn, the Imperial mask falling down in a moment of honesty to reveal the real human being underneath. Except this time he was being shown the happy side of Kallus, a glimpse of the man he could have been without the Empire and the war. And Zeb liked him. He liked him more than he should, probably.

The Lasat tried to imagine what living exclusively on rations for so long would be like. Not just that, but never having a day for himself, away from work, either. What would that do to someone’s spirit, to their sense of enjoyment, to their idea of what made life worth living? Did they end up forgetting those things? Was it only duty, duty and duty for them? No wonder so many Imperials ended up acting like droids, if they were consistently treated as such.

It occurred to him that maybe that was the reason why Kallus had agreed to their impromptu road trip so easily. Zeb had been imagining all sorts of sinister reasons, but… perhaps the guy just needed a break.

It was an odd thought. Relieving, in a way, but also more than a little heartbreaking.

Kallus took a piece of bread and put it in his mouth, briefly closing his eyes as he started chewing, and Zeb had the sudden suspicion that the Imperial was so focused because he didn’t know when he’d have a chance to taste fresh bread again, if ever, and he wanted to treasure the experience. Despite himself, Zeb felt truly sorry for him.

“Stop it,” Kallus said in a slightly chastising tone, not raising his gaze from the plate. 

“Stop what?”

“I can practically hear you pitying me,” he answered, finally gazing at the Lasat with a little knowing smile. “I know what you’re thinking.  _ ‘The evil Empire doesn’t even feed their officers properly’ _ or something like that, right? Well, I’ll have you know it’s not an Imperial thing. It was the same in the Republic’s fleet.”

“You served in the Republic’s fleet?” Zeb asked, surprised. He had sort of assumed Kallus had always been an Imperial, but come to think of it, he was the right age to have been around during the Clone Wars. Maybe he had even met Kanan and he didn’t know it.

“I did,” the man replied proudly. “Under Admiral Yularen’s command. He was the one who recruited me for the Intelligence Program later, when the Republic became the Empire.”

Zeb huffed a soft breath and smiled. This was rather unexpected. Not the fact that Kallus has a past before the Empire, but his willingness to share information about it. The Lasat found himself wanting to know more, to understand this man a little better.

“So, when you say ‘the Academy’, you mean…”

“The Republic’s Military Academy on Coruscant, yes,” the agent finished for him. “Which had become the Royal Imperial Academy when I went back a few years later, to get specialized training for the ISB.”

“Right. So you fought in the Clone Wars too?” Zeb asked, genuinely curious.

Kallus’s face fell and he stared back at his food, stirring the contents of his bowl with the spoon to avoid looking at his companion. “Yes, I… I did.”

He didn’t elaborate and Zeb felt like a moron for asking. It was clearly a delicate subject, so he didn’t press any further.

Once they were finished, Mavarian took away the empty plates but she left the glasses and refilled the jar.

“More wine?” Zeb said, mostly to distract himself from his own thoughts.

“No, thanks. I’m not much of a drinker.”

“Why, does the Empire frown upon alcohol?” He wouldn’t have been surprised, after learning what they did with food.

“No, not really. There are cantinas in every Star Destroyer, but it wouldn’t be great for my authority if I allowed myself to get drunk in front of my fellow officers, don’t you think?”

Zeb made a show of looking around the room.

“Well, they’re not here now. You can get as wasted as you want.”

Kallus made a face, shaking his head at the offer. “It’s just not my thing.”

“Aren’t you an example of virtue,” Zeb mumbled, but he shrugged and poured some more wine for himself.

The noise around them had dulled down quite a bit as the other customers were gradually pulled into the pleasant feeling of a full belly. The place wasn’t getting empty yet, but conversations were carried out in much more intimate tones.

It was late and they’d had one hell of a day, but Zeb didn’t want to go to bed just yet. He was actually having a good time, and he wasn’t ready for this to end.

“Do you play sabacc, at least? I‘m pretty sure Mavarian has a few decks of cards around for the customers to borrow.”

Kallus bit his lower lip in something like embarrassment, and it really shouldn’t have been as endearing as it was.

“Now  _ that _ is indeed frowned upon by the Empire, sorry,” he replied. “No gambling.”

“We don’t have to gamble. We got nothing to bet, anyway. Let’s just play for fun.”

Kallus arched an eyebrow, skeptical. “For fun?”

“Yeah, for fun. I figure even a model Imperial like you knows what that word means, right?”

“I looked it up in a dictionary once,” the agent retorted sarcastically, making Zeb laugh. He still hesitated, though. “But I don’t even know the rules.”

Zeb gave him a predatory smile. Oh, this was going to be amazing. “I’ll teach you.”

Kallus held his gaze for a moment. “All right, then,” he said, and then he pushed his glass forward. “I think I’ll have that wine after all.”

An hour later, the whole jar had been drained, Kallus had won his fourth game in a row and Zeb was just about ready to pull out his own beard. He threw his hands in the air.

“You’ve played me, haven’t ya? You already knew this game!”

The agent raised his hand like he was going to take an oath. “I swear on my life I had never played sabacc until today,” he replied earnestly.

“Then how?!”

“Zeb, this game is all about lying with a straight face and reading your opponent’s body language. That’s basically my job description.”

“You sneaky bastard,” Zeb said without real heat, smiling despite himself. “I should’ve known. Never play cards with a spy.”

“Hey, don’t blame me, it was your idea. Look on the bright side, though: at least there wasn’t any betting involved.”

They both chuckled softly, relaxed and maybe a little bit tipsy. The laughter died down but they didn’t tear their eyes off each other, a smile lingering on their lips. The moment stretched far longer than it was normal for a friendly exchange.

_ What the kriff am I doing? _

Kallus must have thought the exact same thing, because he lowered his head and started fidgeting in his seat, nervously clearing his throat. “I, uh… I think it’s time to call it a day, don’t you agree?”

“Sure, yes,” Zeb replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “We really should get in bed.  _ Go _ to bed! I mean go. To sleep. Yes.”

He cursed himself under his breath for that slip, but Kallus either didn’t notice or chose not to acknowledge it, thankfully. The man got up from the table and immediately swayed on his feet so hard he had to hold onto Zeb’s arm to avoid falling.

“Whoa, easy there!” the Lasat was by his side in a blink, holding him by the elbows. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Kallus insisted. “It’s just that my legs feel a little wobbly. That wine seems to be a lot stronger than it tastes.”

“Or maybe you’re a lightweight,” Zeb retorted with a smirk.

“I’d give you a proper answer to that, but I’m thinking I may need your help to climb the stairs so it’s probably not a good idea to insult you right now.”

Unable to hide his smile, Zeb encircled Kallus’s shoulders as the man slid his arm around the Lasat’s waist. They left the cantina together, slowly making their way upstairs to their room.

“You know… You don’t really smell bad,” Kallus said out of the blue, halfway up the stairs.

“What? Where did that come from?”

“Earlier, in the room… You said  _ ‘at least you’re not complaining about the way I smell’ _ . But you don’t smell bad, so why did you think I’d complain?”

“Ask Ezra, he’s the one who’s always going on about it,” Zeb answered.

They reached the hallway, but Kallus didn’t release his grip on Zeb’s side even though he seemed to have a lot less trouble to walk straight now.

“Really? Well, that’s odd. You know, I grew up on Coruscant, so I know a thing or two about terrible smells, and trust me, yours doesn’t qualify.”

“So… you’re basically saying I don’t stink as much as the sewers in Coruscant?” Zeb teased him. “Gee, thanks. You always say the sweetest things.”

“Oh, come on, don’t twist my words. You know that’s not what I’ve said.” Kallus looked up to him with a scowl that would have been much more impressive if he hadn’t rested his head on Zeb’s shoulder to do it. He must have found the spot pretty comfortable, because he stayed there while Zeb took the plastoid key to open the door to their room.

“Sorry,” he said placatingly. “I know.”

“I’m just saying, there’s nothing wrong with your scent,” the agent continued, like he hadn’t heard him. “It’s strong, yes, but… not unpleasant. I kinda like it. You can tell Bridger I said that.” He finished that last sentence with a nod of his head.

Zeb chuckled. “Yeah, thanks for defending my honor, but I’m not sure the kid’s gonna give a kriff ‘bout your opinion, pal.”

Ezra might not care what Kallus thought, but Zeb did. The sense of smell played a very important role in the development of attraction among Lasats. He didn’t know if it was the same for humans, so this could mean something or nothing at all.

He told himself it was probably nothing. Humans were very particular about scents, that was all. He remembered an incident with a perfume Sabine loved, but made Kanan want to puke every time she used it. What one of them found disgusting was perfectly okay for another, and so on. Kallus was no exception.

Yeah, it was surely nothing. Better not to dwell on it.

Once inside the room, Kallus dropped his jacket on the floor and sat on the bed to start dealing with his boots, while Zeb watched him fondly. He looked completely focused on his task, like he didn’t trust his motor skills very much. He got them off without too much trouble, though, and moved on to his clothes.

“I had fun today,” Kallus said suddenly, a gentle smile dancing on his lips. “Thank you for this evening, Zeb.”

The Lasat gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Remind me to never get you properly drunk. If you’re this sappy after three glasses of wine, I really don’t wanna see what totally wasted Kallus looks like.”

“Alexsandr,” said the agent as he laid back.

“What was that?”

“That’s my name, Alexsandr. Nobody really calls me that, but I figured you have a right to know.”

“Huh,” Zeb replied awkwardly. He hoped the man wasn’t about to get too personal. He’d wanted to know more about him, but that didn’t mean he had a wish to venture into Too Much Information territory. “Okay, thanks.”

“You are a truly good person, Zeb.” He spoke in a sleepy voice, already closing his eyes as he covered himself with the blanket. Zeb had a feeling he wouldn’t even remember this conversation in the morning.

“Ah… thank you. You’re okay too.”

“No, I’m not,” Kallus replied in a slurred voice, already half-asleep. “I’m a monster.”

Then he turned on his side, his back to Zeb, and his breathing evened out right away. 

A chill ran through Zeb’s veins with that last phrase.

So the man had a conscience, after all. He was aware that he had done terrible things, and he felt remorse. That wasn’t a small discovery. It completely changed most of the assumptions he had made about him at first.

Why wouldn’t he quit, then? Was it sheer stubbornness, a refusal to admit the Empire wasn’t as righteous as he thought it to be? Was it his pride, keeping him from accepting he had been fooled by Imperial propaganda like so many others? Or was it fear of retaliation?

Whatever the reason, it meant that he could still be saved. All Zeb needed to do was push him in the right direction.

It also meant that, underneath his layers of arrogance and confidence, Kallus was dealing with guilt and self-loathing in silence. Zeb watched his back as he slept and felt a pang of sympathy. Yeah, the guy probably deserved all that and more, but as someone who was too familiar with those feelings, Zeb wouldn’t wish them upon his worst enemy. And Kallus might have literally been his worst enemy before, but not now. If he was honest with himself, he had stopped considering the agent as such the moment he offered his hand to pull Zeb out of the ice cave.

Still thinking about this, he went into the fresher to drink a glass of water. Then he stripped down to his underwear and got in bed too, but sleep took some time to come despite how tired he was.

He had a lot on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s an incredible fanart for this chapter, made by the wonderful [angicita](http://archiveofourown.org/users/angicita): [click here to get to the beauty](https://twitter.com/Angie_S_G/status/946507947634515974). Please go to her twitter and give her some love!


	6. Chapter 6

Kallus was usually a very light sleeper. It was sort of an occupational hazard, the ever-present awareness that he could be summoned at any hour, on or off his shift, should the need arise. One was never truly off duty in a Star Destroyer.

  
That morning, however, he woke up slowly and bit by bit. First his mind, next his body, with a few precious moments in between to let him savor the pleasant heaviness of slumber in his limbs.

  
He opened his eyes a little, blinking to clear his sight. Zeb was still asleep on the other bed, lying on his side, his back to Kallus. He had kicked the blanket off during the night and was only wearing a pair of boxers, and… well. It was quite a nice view to wake up to, that was for sure.

  
The agent didn’t waste the chance to take a long, leisurely look at the Lasat’s body. He traced the outlines of his muscles with his eyes, his broad back and powerful legs, and followed the dark stripes covering his purple fur. He wondered if it would feel as soft under his fingers as it looked.

  
A very specific part of Kallus’s anatomy started to wake up, too.

  
And, of course, that was when his headache decided to kick in.

  
He groaned involuntarily, regretting it in the very same instant. He didn’t mean to wake Zeb, but the sudden pain had taken him off guard.

  
The Lasat, of course, stirred and opened his eyes to find Kallus curled in on himself and covering his head with a hand.

  
“Hey,” he said with a sleepy, rough voice that Kallus would have appreciated much more if his head didn’t feel like someone was trying to crush his skull with a press. “A really mean one, huh?”

  
Kallus answered with a rather pathetic whine, but he was beyond caring at that point. The only advantage of the headache and the nausea was that any trace of his body’s more compromising reactions had vanished completely, thus saving him the embarrassment.

  
“I’ll get you some water,” Zeb offered, getting up from his bed. He went into the fresher and came back a few seconds later with a glass that he gave to Kallus. “Come on, drink. Karabast, man, you only had three cups of wine. It wasn’t even a strong liquor.”

  
“I told you I’m not used to it,” Kallus replied between sips of water, and Zeb laughed softly.

  
“Yeah, I can see that, _Alexsandr_.”

  
“How do you…?” The agent’s head perked up, a move he immediately regretted as a new wave of pain hit him. “Ow, my head…” he complained in a small voice. “I’m never drinking alcohol again.”

  
Kallus covered his forehead with a hand and took a deep breath before speaking again. “How… how do you know that?”

  
“You told me last night.”

  
“Did I?”

  
“Mm-hm.”

  
Kallus could feel the panic growing in him. He vaguely remembered feeling a little dizzy after dinner and climbing the stairs to the room practically hanging from Zeb’s arms. But he couldn’t recall a single word from their conversation after that.

  
“And… what else did I say?” he asked cautiously.

  
“Well, you finally admitted I am indeed the best fighter of the two of us. Also the most handsome. Oh, and then you spilled all of the Empire’s secrets.”

  
Kallus stared at him in horror, unable to tell if he was kidding or not. Not about the Imperial secrets, of course. He was pretty sure he hadn’t revealed any sensitive information, he hadn’t been _that_ drunk. But the rest of what Zeb had said… Much to his chagrin, it wasn’t so beyond the realm of possibility.

  
But Zeb chuckled softly. “Karabast, you should see your face right now. Relax, I’m just messing with you. Your name was the only remotely secret thing you told me, and honestly, it’s not even that embarrassing.”

  
Kallus let out a discreet sigh of relief as Zeb rose from his bed.

  
“Look, I’m gonna take a shower, then you’re gonna take a shower, and when we’re done we’re gonna go downstairs to get breakfast. You’ll feel better after that, I promise.”

  
“I hope you’re right,” Kallus groaned, letting his head rest on the pillow again and closing his eyes. Something about Zeb’s cheerful voice had caused in him an overwhelming surge of affection, so strong that he didn’t dare look at the Lasat for fear it would show.

  
He wasn’t used to this, to people showing concern about his well-being or acting as if they actually liked his company. But Zeb did, and Kallus couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. The one person in the whole galaxy with the most reasons to hate him was also the one who had shown him the greatest kindness. It was a completely foreign concept to him, the idea that someone could go through life with such an open heart, apparently without fear of having it broken. Kallus wasn’t sure if it took a lot of bravery or a lot of foolishness.

  
Maybe a little bit of both.

  
Kallus heard Zeb move about for a little while, then silence. Cautiously, he cracked open one eye to make sure he was alone. Seeing his companion had disappeared into the fresher, he laid on his back to stare at the ceiling, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The headache had dulled down a bit after the glass of water, but the turmoil of emotions running through his heart and brain had not.

  
How had it come to this? He’d gone from wanting to kill Garazeb Orrelios to being ready to protect him with his own life in less than a week. It sounded ludicrous. Before Bahryn, Zeb had been nothing to him but an annoying stain on his otherwise impeccable record. His opinion on the Lasat was no different than what he thought about all rebels: terrorists, criminals, the worst scum of the galaxy.

  
Oh, kriff, he had been so wrong. So, so terribly wrong.

  
And the universe was making him pay dearly for that mistake. Because this feeling, this softness that would find its way through his heart whenever Zeb was near? There was no way this could end well for him.

  
Kallus could have dealt with it if it had been just sexual. It would’ve been easy to shame himself into ignoring that. His involvement in the Lasan massacre alone would have been enough to do the trick, even without taking the Empire’s policies about fraternizing with aliens into consideration.

  
But that was the problem: it wasn’t just desire. It was admiration, and respect, and affection. It was warmth and joy and comfort, like coming home.

  
Except it wasn’t _his_ home, and he couldn’t stay there.

  
Kallus was realistic, he knew this little vacation would have to end soon and then they’d go back to being enemies again. Not like before, of course. He could never hunt the Ghost crew again like he used to do. And that was another problem right there: if it came to a choice between his duty to the Empire and Zeb’s life, he was certain he’d choose Zeb in a second, no hesitation. That was a major conflict of interest. The only honorable option for him would be to request a transfer, to let someone else take care of this rebel cell in particular.

  
But then, he might never see Zeb again. And he wouldn’t be able to protect him if the Empire got too close.

  
Oh, stars, he was actually thinking that. He was considering _treason_.

  
His breathing had become shallow and erratic, so he concentrated on slowing it down and clearing his mind. That hypothetical transfer was starting to look more and more as his only way out. And the sooner it happened, the better. Delaying the inevitable would only make it hurt more.

  
_Get as far away as possible, bury yourself in work and hope for the best. Maybe time will help you forget and restore your loyalty._

  
Yes, it was the best decision he could make, but it felt as if something very heavy had suddenly landed on his chest.

  
Kallus figured this was his punishment for some of the things he’d done in the name of the Empire: to get a glimpse of what having Zeb in his life would be like, only to spend the rest of his days dreaming about what could have been.

  
But that was the price of doing his job. He always knew what he signed up for, and he accepted the cost because working for the greater good sometimes demanded sacrifices. It would be stupid to whine about it now.

  
With a defeated sigh, Kallus sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, just as Zeb was coming out of the bathroom. The Lasat smiled at him sympathetically, probably mistaking Kallus’s hunched shoulders and miserable expression for symptoms of his hangover, and that was even worse. The agent had to use all his willpower to refrain from throwing himself into those big purple arms and begging Zeb to take him somewhere far away.

  
Instead, he walked past him with his eyes fixed on the floor and entered the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

 

Finding an affordable ship that suited their needs, could be bought under a false name and wasn’t older than themselves was no easy task.

  
It took them the whole morning, but they finally set their eyes on a YT-2000 light freighter that was in more or less good shape. Now it was only a matter of convincing the dealer, a shady human named Frok, to accept the price they could offer.

  
“I’ll tell you what,” the thin man said after a few minutes of fruitless discussion, the tips of his twig-like fingers meeting in front of his chin. “I’ll make you a good discount if you guys help me with a little problem.”

  
Zeb and Kallus exchanged a suspicious look.

  
“What kind of problem?” the agent asked. His headache was mercifully gone, but frowning didn’t exactly help, so he relaxed his features again.

  
“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” the man answered. “Well, nothing for two well-armed, obviously military, big guys like you. See, I need to send a package to one of my clients, but they live a little too close to Tusken territory, so it’s kind of tricky. I need it delivered by someone who looks intimidating enough to scare those bandits off, and you two are perfect for that job. It’ll be easy.”

  
“Who is this client of yours?” Kallus asked warily.

  
“Mmm? Oh, she’s… she’s a very respected entrepreneur, of course. She’s, uh… a merchant, yeah, that’s right,” he replied nervously. A little bit too nervously for Kallus’s taste. “She also has some investments in entertaining, you know, here and there..”

  
A horrible suspicion started to form in Kallus’s mind. He turned his head to seek Zeb’s gaze and saw the Lasat was following the conversation with a deep frown.

  
“And does this lady have a name?” the agent continued.

  
Frok chuckled lightly and wiped the sweat from his face. “Of course she has a name,” he replied. “It’s, uh… Lupai the Hutt.”

  
“A _Hutt_??” they both exclaimed at the same time, and Zeb advanced menacingly into Frok’s personal space. The man was quite tall, but he still towered over him. “You want to send us into a Hutt’s lair to run your errand? Are you crazy?”

  
“Please, it’s perfectly safe!!” Fork pleaded. “See, that’s why I can’t find anyone to make this delivery! People hear the word ‘Hutt’ and they shit their pants, it’s a fucking nightmare! Come on, I need to get this package to her, I’m way overdue as it is! Tell you what, I’ll give you a thirty percent discount. You can’t say no to that, huh? It’s more than generous!”

  
They glanced at each other again, Zeb speaking this time.

  
“Can you give us a second?”

  
“Of course! Take all the time you need, I’ll be over here.”

  
Zeb grabbed Kallus’s upper arm and they moved apart from the man. He didn’t release his grip on the agent’s bicep when he started talking, which was kind of distracting.

  
“I don’t like it,” the Lasat said.

  
“Neither do I, but what other options do we have?”

  
“You know this is probably some kind of trap, right? We get inside that place, there’s a big chance they’ll be waiting to beat us up and rob us all our money.”

  
“Or capture us as slaves to be sold, I know,” Kallus agreed. “But we need that ship.”

  
Zeb looked at him intently, with his head tilted to the side like he was studying him.

  
“Wait a second, are you… Karabast, you’re actually considering it, ain’t ya? You think we can blast our way out of a Hutt’s den, just the two of us?”

  
Kallus shrugged.

  
“It sounds entertaining,” he said nonchalantly. “I could use the exercise anyway.”

  
Zeb roared with laughter, head tipped back and hands on his hips. Out of the corner of his eye, Kallus saw Frok looking at them curiously, but the man said nothing.

  
“Okay, so that’s how you wanna do it, huh?” Zeb spoke, still smiling widely. “Well, in that case, it’s a good thing I found some toys when we were dismantling the shuttle. They might come in handy.”

  
“What toys?” Kallus asked slowly, one eyebrow arched in suspicion.

  
Zeb threw a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Frok wasn’t looking, and then he discreetly lifted his belt to show a bunch of thermal detonators decorated with the Imperial insignia.

  
“What?!” the agent whispered indignantly. “You found that in the shuttle and didn’t tell me? Can’t you even trust me that much?”

  
“I dunno,” Zeb retorted with a playful wink. “Can I?”

  
How this Lasat managed to make almost anything sound flirty was beyond Kallus’s comprehension.

  
His answer got stuck in this throat for some reason, but luckily Zeb didn’t seem to be expecting one. He turned around and walked back to where Frok was waiting, leaving behind a very flustered, confused agent with his heart pounding wildly.

  
“We accept your terms.”

  
“Excellent!” the thin man answered, grinning happily. “Let’s go then.”

  
“Not so fast,” Kallus interrupted. “I want this agreement written and signed before we do anything, including the final price for the ship. Just in case you get any ideas about changing the terms after the job is done.”

  
Frok wiggled a finger at him, a sly smile forming on his lips. “Oh, you’re a tough one. I like you. Very well, gentlemen, just let me call my protocol droid.”

  
The man had agreed a little too fast for Kallus’s liking, but then Zeb was looking at him with something like pride in his eyes and he forgot everything else.

  
Once the document was signed and Kallus had their copy safe in his pocket, they followed Frok into the backyard, where some droids were filling a crate with what looked like a moist condenser. They loaded the crate on a speeder.

  
“Here, this is, uh... the packing list,” Frok told them as he held out a holodisk for Zeb to take. “Just give it to Lupai’s secretary, all the details are there.”

  
“Right,” Zeb said, his tone slightly suspicious. “Well, see ya later, I suppose.”

  
“Sure. I’ll be right here. Your ship will be ready and waiting for you when you get back.” The man waved a hand at them cheerfully.

  
Once they were in the speeder, Zeb and Kallus exchanged a look.

  
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Zeb grumbled.

  
“You’re probably right,” Kallus answered. “So, if you have a better idea for how to get us that ship, I’m all ears.”

  
The Lasat stared at him, a deep frown darkening his face.

  
“Argh, karabast!” he finally mumbled, and he started up the speeder.


	7. Chapter 7

The trip through the desert went by without incident.

While Zeb drove, Kallus kept watching their surroundings, but the only creatures they saw were a group of Jawas in the distance, minding their own business. The Tusken raiders they were supposed to defend the cargo from didn’t bother to make an appearance.

After half an hour or so, they reached the coordinates Frok had given them: an old compound built on a clearing in the middle of a system of rocky mounds and small caves. The path they were following seemed to be the only way in or out, at least for a speeder or any other vehicle that relied on repulsors, which meant the place would be very difficult to attack by surprise unless you had air support.

Kallus shook himself out of that train of thought. He was looking at the situation from a military strategy point of view, but he didn’t have a platoon under his command right now. It was just him and Zeb. Their approach would have to be much more subtle.

Luckily for both of them, Zeb had plenty of experience with this kind of mission. They had been discussing a plan already, in case things went like they expected them to go. It was a risky one, that was for sure, but considering how many times Phoenix Squadron had managed to pull even more daring feats under his very nose, Kallus was willing to trust Zeb with this.

The facilities were protected by a stone wall of about four meters tall and fifty meters long on each side. They couldn’t see much of the buildings inside the walls, barely the roofs, but it was clear that there was something big in the center of the space and a few smaller constructions surrounding it.

Kallus spotted guards on top of the walls, one on each corner. They seemed to be armed.

“We should probably leave the speeder outside the walls,” Zeb suggested, to which Kallus wholeheartedly agreed. He certainly didn’t want their vehicle trapped inside the compound if they needed to make a hasty retreat. Or rather,  _ when _ they had to make it. Of course, there was still a chance that the Hutt’s people would bring the speeder inside while they weren’t watching, but it was a risk they’d have to take.

Zeb stopped the vehicle a few meters away from the walls, with the excuse of putting it under the shadow of a rock. They unloaded the crate and pushed it to the main entrance. The gate opened as they were getting close, giving way to a couple of guards whose species Kallus couldn’t identify. They were big, muscular and with a coarse skin that looked almost like stone.

“What do you want?” one of them asked unceremoniously.

“We’ve been sent by Frok to deliver this to Lupai the Hutt,” Zeb replied, pointing to their cargo. “And here it is, so our job is done. Here, take the packing list.” He put the holodisk on top of the crate. “Bye, boys, pleasure doing business with ya.”

He turned to leave, pulling Kallus by an arm in the same movement, but the voice of the guard stopped them in their tracks.

“Wait a moment,” he said. “Every delivery has to be presented to Lupai in person, that’s the rule. You gotta come in.”

Kallus heard Zeb sigh and mumble a curse. “So much for making this easy.”

Two more guards had come out of the gates and taken positions on either side of Zeb and Kallus, in a not so subtle display. It was quite clear there was no going back now, so they shared a meaningful look and started pushing the crate into the compound, surrounded by the four tall figures. 

The guards led them to the main building, a bulky square construction whose opulent decoration couldn’t really hide the signs of decay. Lupai clearly wasn’t one of the big crimelords of Tatooine, no matter how much she wanted to pretend she was. Kallus took a discreet look around, taking inventory of every possible escape route, and in doing so he also noticed the state of the other buildings in the compound: the warehouses looked rusty, the hangar only housed three bikes and a speeder that was currently undergoing repairs, and there was a stable with actual banthas inside.

“Do you see that?” Kallus whispered, only for Zeb’s ears, pointing discreetly to the beasts.

“Thought only the Tusken used those for transportation anymore,” the Lasat replied, nodding thoughtfully. “Seems a little old-fashioned, don’t ya think?”

“Well, in this terrain, I can’t say I’m surprised. Speeders must be rather useless around here.”

One of the guards shot them a disapproving look, effectively ending the conversation, so Kallus returned to studying the place.

What Lupai the Hutt lacked in technology, she seemed to make up for in manpower. There were a lot of beings working for her. Apart from the four guards on top of the wall and the other four escorting them, he counted at least twenty including humans, Twi’leks, Abednedos, Rodians and even a couple of Devaronians. And those were only the ones milling around outside the buildings.

That might be a potential problem for them. Despite his earlier bravado, Kallus would actually prefer to sort this thing out as smoothly as possible, but he wasn’t getting his hopes up. If nothing else, Frok’s lack of resistance to their demands of a written agreement was a clear sign that he didn’t expect them to come back.

He steeled himself for the worst when they were showed in to Lupai’s audience chamber.

The enormous Hutt was resting on some kind of podium at the far end of the room, surrounded by assistants who tended to her every need. One was serving her food, another was massaging her neck, and a third one was playing a musical instrument. It didn’t escape Kallus’s notice that all the servants were male, young, and attractive.

Judging by Zeb’s low growl, he had seen it too.

A Rodian came to meet them when they were close to the podium, identifying himself as Lupai’s secretary.

“Ah, good,” Zeb answered. “Frok told us to give you this.” He put the holodisk on the Rodians’s green hand.

“What is it, S’uuno,” Lupai asked. To Zeb’s and Kallus’s surprise, she had spoken in basic, although her deep and gravelly voice made it hard to understand her words. 

The Rodian turned towards her. “They claim to be here on Frok’s behalf, Your Excellence.”

“Oh, so that little  _ sleemo _ has finally decided to pay me?” She talked slowly, taking her time with every syllable. “All right, let’s see what he’s sent me. Perhaps I won’t have to kill him after all.”

Zeb leaned his head slightly closer to Kallus’s ear. “That sleazy bastard didn’t say anything about paying her,” he whispered angrily.

“I know,” Kallus replied without taking his eyes from the podium.

“This doesn’t sound like we’re delivering a purchase.”

“No, it doesn’t,” the agent agreed. “Be ready.”

The Rodian, S’uuno, activated the holodisk and a wall of text materialized in front of him. He began reading aloud.

“Most honorable and mighty Lupia, I beg your forgiveness for my lack of diligence in repaying the amount that you so graciously lent me in my time of need. I pray you know that I always intended to settle my debt, and was only waiting to acquire the means to do so. Now I’ve finally found something I believe worthy of your attention. Please accept these two fine specimens, the Lasat and the human, as your new slaves.”

“WHAT?” Zeb roared, just as Lupia’s appreciative gaze turned to them. The Hutt’s eyes roamed over them slowly, with a greedy smirk, and Kallus had to fight back a wave of nausea.

“You gotta be kidding me!!” Zeb went on, enraged, causing the guards to close in on them with their weapons raised.

“Calm down,” Kallus said under his breath, grabbing Zeb’s arm.

“I’ll calm down when I’ve killed that stick insect of a human with my bare hands!”

Kallus was the only one in the room who knew Zeb was only playing his part as they had previously agreed. It hadn’t been difficult to anticipate Frok’s move, considering the Hutts were well-known slave traders, so they had been counting on this. Now they needed to let their captors get confident.

“I understand your rage, but I don’t think there’s anything we can do,” he insisted with his best pleading look. “Let’s face it, Zeb, we’re highly outnumbered. I don’t want to die today, do you?”

Zeb’s frown was still stormy, but he held his tongue, so Kallus turned to address Lupia in an exquisitely polite tone.

“Forgive my friend’s behaviour, Your Excellence. We were not aware of the… the terms of the transaction, and this has come as a surprise for us. But don’t worry, he will come to his senses.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will,” she answered menacingly. “Or we’ll make him.”

Kallus repressed a shudder. “Please, mister S’uuno, do continue.”

The Rodian snorted indignantly and made a show of trying to find the point where he had been so rudely interrupted.

“Ah… yes… as your new slaves. They are both in their prime and I am sure they’ll serve you well, should you decide to use them. And in case you wish to sell them, I am confident you’ll get more than enough money to cover both my debt and the interest.”

“Yeah, you bet,” Zeb mumbled with a hint of pride, so low that only Kallus heard him, and the agent had to fight a smile.

The Rodian kept on reading. “The Lasat is a truly unique creature. As you know, there are only a handful of them left in the whole galaxy, so his exotic nature alone is guaranteed to get you many interested customers, not to mention his magnificent physical form. As for the human, I am not the best judge for that, but I believe he can be considered quite handsome, too.”

“Hey!” Kallus said, scoffing indignantly while Zeb snorted. Seriously? The best thing Frok could say about him was that someone might find him attractive?

However, no one in the room seemed to give a damn about his wounded pride. S’uuno didn’t even interrupt himself this time. “Mighty Lupai, I hope this payment is entirely satisfactory. I have also taken the liberty to send you a moist condenser as a token of my respect and gratitude. I hope you will accept it with my best regards. Forever at your service, Frok.”

The Hutt barked out a gurgly, disgusting laugh. “Now, now, it seems that stupid human could do something right, after all. What a nice surprise. Welcome to my home, boys. I’m looking forward to see how well you two can serve me.” She gestured to her guards to take Zeb and Kallus’s weapons away. “Take them to the cells!”

“Okay, can we start freaking out now?” Zeb mumbled to Kallus only, watching as the big aliens approached them.

“Do you have your toys ready?” he whispered in reply.

“You bet I do.”

“Just as we planned it, then?”

Zeb nodded and sneaked a hand down to the underside of the crate’s lid. Kallus heard the telling blip of detonators being activated, one after another, until the whole set was ready. The agent turned to the guardsmen, smiling innocently with his hands in the air.

“Now, now, guys, we’re all friends here, right? There’s no need to get aggressive. What do you want, this thing?” he pointed to where his bo-rifle peaked over his shoulder, then grabbed it and unstrapped it from his back. The guards instinctively raised their weapons, but he simply presented them with it. “It’s all right, you can have it. See? No problem, right, Zeb?”

“No problem at all,” the Lasat repeated through his teeth, unclipping his own bo-rifle to offer it to the nearest guard.

The one who seemed to be in charge looked at them suspiciously, but he gestured for two of his men to take the weapons and then pointed at Zeb and Kallus with his blaster. “Come on, move.”

“Just lead the way,” Kallus answered.

His extensive training allowed him to keep a perfectly calm appearance, while inside he was nearly losing it. He was counting the seconds, hoping they had timed it correctly. One moment too soon and both him and Zeb would be good as dead.

But luck, or perhaps a really good planning, was on their side that day. They had barely left the audience room when the explosion shook the whole building, making dust fall from the ceiling of their corridor. The guards looked back in confusion for a split second, but that was all Zeb and Kallus needed to punch the ones who had their rifles and take the weapons back from them. A quick series of shots dealt with the rest of the party, and then they were sprinting through the hallways like they had a furious nexu on their tail.

Absolute chaos had been unleashed upon the Hutt’s lair. The sound of screams filled the air, thick with clouds of dust. People were running towards the audience chamber, crying out for their boss. Nobody paid attention to the two tall figures hiding in the shadows, trying to make their way through secondary corridors and dark passageways.

Their luck run out when they got out of the building, though. It was a lot more difficult to find places to hide in the outside, and even though the general confusion still gave them some advantage, going unnoticed would be much harder.

“There they are! Seize them!”

The voice belonged to the Rodian secretary, S’uuno. Zeb and Kallus looked back from their meager cover against the stable’s corner to see him limping out of the front door of the main building, his green skin now whitish with dust and a trail of green blood falling from his temple.

“They killed Lupai! Don’t let them escape!!”

“Argh, Karabast!” Zeb grunted.

_ Indeed _ , Kallus thought as they both broke into a run, blaster shots passing them closely and coming from all sides. They moved from the stable to the nearest warehouse, taking cover there to defend themselves. Some of Lupai’s minions started to drop dead under their fire. 

A shot coming from a higher point nearly hit Zeb’s ear and Kallus moved to protect him immediately, looking for the new source of danger. The fire had come from one of the guards perched on top of the outer wall, and he was preparing to shoot again. The agent lifted his bo-rifle and took him down.

“The main entrance is blocked!” Zeb said, yelling to make himself heard over the chaos. “We can’t get out that way!”

Kallus looked over to see some of Lupai’s guards, those who were still alive at least, had formed a barrier in front of the closed gates. He bit back a curse, taking in their situation as he kept firing his bo-rifle. With the exception of the guards holding the door, it seemed like every single inhabitant of the compound was closing in on them with hatred in their eyes. Their focus was so intense they stepped over the bodies of their fallen comrades like they were rocks, not even stopping to check them for a pulse.

“We need to get to a vantage point!” the agent said, talking as loudly as Zeb had before. “We’ll have a better chance at holding them off if we have the higher ground!”

“The walls?” Zeb asked immediately, like he had read Kallus’s mind, and the man silently thanked the universe for the Lasat’s quick thinking.

“Yes, the walls! It’s our only chance!”

They ran to the stairs built in the same stone of the wall. The dead guard had been quickly replaced by one of his colleagues, and the other two were running towards him as well. Zeb shot the watchman directly above them while Kallus kept at bay the mob trying to grab them from the ground.

Once they got up the wall, they quickly did away with the other two guards and then, standing back to back, concentrated all their efforts in the angry people trying to climb the stairs to get them.

“I’m not sure this was such a good idea after all!” Kallus spat through gritted teeth, firing his bo-rifle left and right to keep their attackers from getting closer. “Now we’re trapped.”

“Could be worse,” Zeb answered nonchalantly. “We could be just as trapped down there, and also dead.”

“I’m afraid we won’t have to wait very long to be in the same situation up here.”

Zeb looked down and to the outside. “We could jump. It’s not so high.”

“You could, maybe,” the agent replied between shots, with a little hint of desperation. “But I would probably break something in the fall”

The Lasat delivered a powerful blow with his bo-rifle to the face of a guy who had gotten dangerously close. “Well, I guess I’ll have to carry you, then.”

“What!?” the agent asked. He wasn’t sure he had heard correctly.

Before Kallus could react, he was being pulled to Zeb’s chest by a strong arm surrounding his waist and he found his face merely inches away from the Lasat’s.

“Hold fast,” Zeb said in a low growl, staring into Kallus’s eyes with a wicked smile.

Next thing he knew, they were flying into the air.

A long scream escaped from Kallus’s throat and he instinctively clutched Zeb’s torso with both arms. His bo-rifle went flying away with the impulse and landed a couple of meters away from where they did. Zeb made them roll when they hit the sand, protecting Kallus with his arms. They came to a stop after two or three turns, Kallus flat on his back and Zeb on top of him, his face looming over the agent’s.

Kallus would have loved to take some time to enjoy the moment, but blaster fire was raining around them and the gates were opening slowly. They had to get up quickly, ignoring their bruises and strained muscles, to pick up their bo-rifles and make a run for the speeder. They jumped into it just as Lupai’s minions started to flood from the half-open entrance.

Zeb started the vehicle and pushed it to its full speed while Kallus kept shooting to cover their escape. As the buildings became smaller in the distance, three speeder bikes came out of the gates, quickly gaining ground on them.

As soon as they were in range, the bikers started shooting too.

“Zeb, we need to go faster!” Kallus shouted over the roar of the engine.

“I’m trying!! This isn’t exactly a podracer, ya know?!”

Kallus kept firing his bo-rifle, hoping to disable their pursuers, but the movement of the speeder made him miss almost every shot. He took a deep breath, relaxed his shoulders as he let the air out, and took his time to aim.

The next shot hit one of the bikers square in the chest, making him scream and fall. His vehicle, unmanned, crossed over the path of the other two. One of them couldn’t dodge it in time and went crashing into a rock.

There was only one left. Kallus aimed again, but the speeder took a sudden curve and he almost fell on top of Zeb.

“Can you drive this thing in a straight line for five seconds?!” he complained.

“If you think you can do better on this terrain while also avoiding blaster fire, I’ll gladly let you take the wheel!,” Zeb protested in a growl, but he did his best to stabilize the speeder anyway.

Kallus settled against the seat again, facing backwards, holding his rifle steady.

_ I can do it. I was trained for worse than this. I have hit more difficult targets. _

He let out his breath and fired.

The remaining bike started sprouting smoke from its motor, lost speed, and exploded.

With a deep sigh of relief, Kallus relaxed and turned around in his seat, sitting properly. His breath was coming out in short puffs, his heart beating wildly.

“Nice aim,” Zeb commented with a lopsided smile.

“Thank you,” he answered, panting from the exertion.

“Who would’ve thought, huh?”

The man sent him a puzzled look sideways. “Thought what?” he huffed.

“That you and I would make such a good team,” Zeb replied almost wistfully.

Kallus told himself the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach had to be an aftereffect of the adrenaline still running through his system. Of course it had to be that. It had nothing to do with Zeb’s words at all.

“Yes, it is… remarkable.” His voice sounded small and sad and absolutely not how he had meant to say it.

Zeb gazed at him strangely for a couple of seconds, but didn’t make any further comment. Instead, he gripped the wheel harder and kept driving into the desert.

A few minutes later, however, Kallus saw him grin in a feral way that showed his canines, without taking his eyes from the road.

“What is it?” the agent asked carefully. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“I was just thinking now would be a perfect time to pay a visit to our dear friend Frok, dontcha think?” he said darkly, lifting an eyebrow in Kallus’s direction with that devilish smirk of his. 

The agent mirrored his expression almost by reflex.

“Well, we do have a ship to collect, after all,” he agreed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone!!

 

When they walked through the door of Frok’s shop, heads bent in determination, eyes dark with fury and their steps perfectly in sync, the little guy looked like he was about to shit his pants. Quite literally.

“Oh, kriff,” the wiry man said with dismay, before he tried to make a run for the back door. Zeb jumped over the counter as Kallus moved around it, but they both got to him at the same time. Each of them put a hand on a skinny shoulder, pinning the man against the nearest wall.

“P…Please don’t kill me!” Frok begged, his haste to get the words out making him stutter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to do it, but I owed that Hutt a lot of money and I was running out of time. It was a life or death situation!”

“Aw, what a sad story,” Kallus said, mocking him. “Aren’t you moved by this man’s tragedy, Zeb?”

“Not really, no.”

“Yeah, neither am I.”

“Please, I’ll do anything!!” Frok looked a hair’s breadth away from sobbing, his pale face turning from Zeb to Kallus and back, over and over.

Zeb’s calm, deliberate tone was scarier than any yelling could have ever been. “I think you’ve done more than enough already, pal.”

“The question now is what are  _ we _ going to do with you.” Kallus added, cool and controlled as if he was contemplating what he was going to order for lunch.

A pitiful whimper escaped Frok’s lips.

“I’m thinking we could beat some common sense into him, ya know?” Zeb said to Kallus, speaking as if the little man wasn’t even there. “We’d be doing him a favor if we got it into his thick head that it’s not a good idea to loan money from Hutts. And even a worse idea to try and sell out innocent people to repay them.”

“Well, I should leave that to you,” Kallus replied theatrically. “After all, you’re the one who is in a  _ ‘magnificent physical form’ _ . I can only aspire to be  _ ‘considered quite handsome’ _ , I’m afraid.”

“Ouch, I almost forgot about that,” Zeb said, shaking his head. “Man, that wasn’t very flattering, right?”

“No, it wasn’t. Our friend Frok is a terrible salesman on top of everything else.”

“Here, just take the ship!” Frok squealed. He took a datachip from his pocket, presumably containing the codes for the YT-2000, and held it out in his shaking hand, offering it to them.  “No charge! I… I’ll even throw in some supplies for your journey! But please don’t hurt me, please, I’m begging you!” 

He was on the verge of tears by the looks of it. Kallus exchanged a disgusted look with Zeb and the Lasat shrugged his shoulders in a way that clearly said the man wasn’t worth it. The agent sighed and then turned back to stare at Frok, leaning close to his face menacingly.

“We are not thieves,” he spat with disdain. He slammed the credits they had agreed to pay for the ship on the counter. Then he took the datachip from Frok’s hand and left the shop with Zeb. Neither of them looked back.

Once outside, they walked to the yard where the YT-2000 stood as proudly as any ship could do under so many layers of dirt. They took a moment to just look at their brand new acquisition, Zeb with his arms crossed over his massive chest, Kallus with his hands on his hips, and both squinting against the light of the suns.

It was  _ their  _ ship. It belonged to them both, more or less officially. Rebel Captain Garazeb Orrelios and ISB Agent Alexsandr Kallus had a possession in common now.

It felt weird to think about it like that.

“D’you reckon this thing has a name?” Zeb wondered.

“Probably something as silly as Frok himself,” Kallus guessed. Then he turned his head to look at Zeb. “We could rename it, if you want. It’s not like the papers are very legal anyway, one more false name isn’t going to matter.”

The Lasat considered it, absently messing with the hair growing from his chin.

“How about  _ Ice Moon _ ?” he suggested after a minute.

Kallus breathed in sharply, taken completely off-guard by the sudden swell of emotion that swept him, and he cast his face down to hide it. 

The ice moon was where everything had started to change for them. It was their special place, in a way. Well, it was in Kallus’s mind at least. And now Zeb wanted to name their ship after it? Could it possibly mean as much to him as it meant to Kallus?  

_ A ship can also be a home. _

He shook that thought away like it burned him. He couldn’t let himself indulge in that kind of fantasy, it was stupid and reckless. This was not his life, could never be his life, nor could it be Zeb’s life for that matter. It had to end sooner rather than later, and the longer they kept ignoring that truth, the more it would hurt in the end.

Kallus’s silence seemed to be making Zeb nervous. He started fidgeting, a hand going to the back of his head in his trademark awkward gesture. “I know, it’s a stupid name,” he mumbled. “It’s okay, we can choose another, we don’t have…”

“It’s perfect,” Kallus interrupted him. He looked up to meet Zeb’s eyes, and the honest emotion he saw there almost made him throw caution to the wind and kiss him. “It’s perfect,” he repeated softly.

The Lasat barely smiled at him, his expression relaxing. There was something nearly hypnotic in those big green eyes, Kallus couldn’t tear his gaze away. He knew he was supposed to say something, anything, but he seemed to have forgotten every language he had ever learned.

“Here are the supplies I promised you, gentlemen,” Frok’s voice made them both jump and quickly look away from each other, breaking the spell. The little man was coming from inside the shop with a big bundle in his arms, completely oblivious to the fact that he had interrupted something. “I got everything you may need on your journeys. It’s the least I can do, after the two of you have been so generous.”

And in that moment, Kallus seriously regretted not having killed him earlier.

 

* * *

  
  


Night had started to fall by the time they took the  _ Ice Moon _ to the place where they’d hidden the fuel cell the day before.

They’d taken the ship for a last minute test run, to make sure everything worked as smoothly as it was to be expected. They got to test every system except the hyperdrive, but nothing could be done about it until they left Tatooine for real.

“I guess we’ll have to hope we don’t get a nasty surprise when we try to jump to lightspeed,” Zeb said, to which Kallus agreed with a nod, his mood somber.

_ Jump to lightspeed… but where to? _

He dreaded the answer to that question like he’d never feared anything else in his life.

Zeb took care of sorting out the supplies while Kallus refueled the ship. The agent felt increasingly jittery as the moment to leave the planet drew near, like he had insects crawling over his skin. This was it. They’d have to part ways now. Their little adventure was closing in on its end and their real lives were waiting.

He felt a tightness in his chest just thinking about it, and he had to stop his work for a moment because he was having trouble breathing. The man closed his eyes briefly, grabbing the handles of the fuel pod with a strength that made his fingers hurt.

And this was only his mind anticipating their separation. Actually saying goodbye to Zeb was going to destroy him, he was certain of that.

As if he had summoned the Lasat by thinking of him, Zeb came down the ramp of the ship, dusting his hands off.

“Everything’s ready in there,” he said. “How about you?”

“I’m just finishing.” Kallus didn’t dare to look at Zeb directly, instead pretending to be very busy managing the fuel cell. He feared his resolve would waver if he did, and that was something he couldn’t afford to do.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zeb scratching his neck like he used to do when he was nervous or insecure —but seriously, when had he learned to read Zeb’s tics and moods like that?—, and he instinctively braced himself.

“I, uh… It’s pretty late, anyway,” the Lasat said, his face turned upwards as if he was checking the growing darkness. As if he cared at all what time it was. As if it made any difference. “We’ve had a bit of a day, too. Maybe we should get some sleep now and leave tomorrow, don’t ya think?”

Kallus closed his eyes again, hiding his anguished face from Zeb. He wanted to say yes so badly, to pretend it was the most sensible idea and use the excuse to have one more night with him. Just for the sake of enjoying his company a little longer, even if nothing could happen between them.

But he knew they would only be delaying the inevitable.

Steeling himself for the conversation to come, he slowly turned to face his friend fully. And yes, Kallus considered Zeb his friend now.

He wished they could be a lot more than that.

“Zeb, we can’t keep doing this,” he replied with a deep sadness in his voice. “The longer I stay with you, the harder it will be to make my story convincing when I return to the Empire.”

The change in Zeb’s body language was immediate and drastic. His smile dropped, his brow furrowed, and he straightened to his full height, towering over Kallus like the imposing, massive warrior he was.

“You still wanna go back,” he said coldly.

“I have to,” Kallus replied with a hint of desperation. “And so do you, to your own people. We both have duties to return to.”

“I know that.”

“Then you also know that this…” he made a hand gesture trying to encompass both of them, but hesitated to say the word ‘friendship’ aloud. “…Whatever this is… has to end.”

Zeb started pacing back and forth, practically fuming. He mildly punched the side of the ship in frustration.

“So nothing has changed for ya, huh?” he spat, stopping to face Kallus again. There was more than anger in his voice, there was pain too. “Are you seriously telling me you’ll just go back to doing the Empire’s dirty work like nothing’s happened? Back to hunting us? What will you do the next time we meet, try to kill me again?”

“No!” Kallus exclaimed, horrified. “Of course not! I couldn’t… I would never…”

“Then what the kriff do you think is gonna happen?!” Zeb nearly yelled.

“I…” Kallus turned his eyes to the ground, unable to meet the Lasat’s gaze. “I have thought about requesting a transfer.”

His words were met with a deep silence. The agent risked looking up and he found Zeb’s bright green eyes staring at him in cold fury, mixed with disappointment. It was an expression he hadn’t seen on his face since Bahryn, and it hurt a lot more than he was willing to let on.

“You mean you’re running away,” Zeb said. A statement, not a question.

“That’s not fair, Zeb,” Kallus replied with dismay, realizing he could never make him understand. That Zeb would forever consider him a coward. “What else do you want me to do?”

The Lasat ran a hand over his face, breathing deeply, visibly trying to calm himself down. 

“Can I be honest with you?” he said after a few moments. There was still a layer of anger underneath his voice, but he kept it firmly under control. 

The question made Kallus arch an eyebrow in disbelief. “Do you mean you’ve been holding back so far?” 

Zeb ignored the remark and continued like the agent hadn’t answered. “How long have we  been bumping heads? Two years, maybe? I’d say we’ve got to know each other pretty well in that time, dontcha think? I know you’ve studied me, and you can bet I’ve studied you. And you know what? I have never, ever, seen you half as happy as you’ve been these two days. Not even that one time when you almost beat me.”

“I did beat you,” Kallus replied indignantly. “It was Bridger who stopped me, not you.”

“That is not my kriffing point!” Zeb roared, then he seemed to shrink in on himself a bit, as if he was self-conscious of his own temper. “What I’m trying to say is you don’t belong with the Empire. You don’t even like those guys, and the things you do for them? You like them even less than that. Yeah, don’t try to deny it, I know you hate yourself for doing their bidding.”

Kallus swallowed hard. “How do you…?”

“You get pretty chatty when you drink, you knew that?” the Lasat interrupted. “But that’s great, man, that’s amazing. It means you have a soul. You’ve been away from the Empire for, like, five seconds and you’re already remembering what being free used to be like. And you know what? I like this Kallus  _ a lot _ more than the one with the Imperial stick up his ass. I just… I don’t get why you’re so adamant to go back!”

“Serving the Empire is not about my personal happiness, Zeb,” Kallus said with gravity. “It’s what I have to do. I know it’s not a perfect system, believe me, I know. I don’t always agree with their politics, but even with all its mistakes, the Empire is the best chance this galaxy has at living in peace.”

“There’s that word again,” Zeb replied with disdain. “Peace. That’s your perfect excuse for anything, right?”

Kallus stared at him in disbelief for a long moment. “You don’t think it’s important enough? Have you forgotten the Clone Wars?”

Zeb sighed. “No, but...”

“Did you fight in them?” Kallus cut him off. Now it was his turn to be angry. “Did you see for yourself what they did to this galaxy? Because I did!”

The Lasat didn’t answer. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and just watched Kallus with a sort of honest curiosity, like he was trying to show he was willing to listen. And maybe it was that open, unassuming attention that did the trick, but suddenly Kallus was talking about things he’d never told anyone else and he didn’t seem able to stop.

“It wasn’t just clones against droids, you know?” he said, voice trembling with a mix of rage and sadness. “It affected everybody. The bombings, the battles… There was always collateral damage. Millions of lives lost, whole worlds devastated.”

He hadn’t revisited those memories in a very long time, but now they came back flooding his mind, almost threatening to drown him.

“It was like living in a nightmare. It didn’t feel real, not completely. I remember the atmosphere of dread, of uncertainty. We tried to keep morale high, to convince ourselves the war would only last a few weeks and we’d win it easily. But it went on, and on, and we kept losing people. Kriff, so many people.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s pretty personal to you,” Zeb said softly.

“More than you can imagine,” Kallus replied with a strangled voice. Just thinking about it felt like an open wound, but he wasn’t going to stop talking now, no matter how much it hurt. He needed to make Zeb understand. “My mothers were doctors. Both of them. They volunteered to go to the front lines to assist the troops because of me, and they… they never returned.”

Zeb moved a little closer, a sympathetic look on his face. “I’m so sorry.”

Kallus nodded gratefully. “I wasn’t the only one who lost someone dear. And what for? No matter how hard we fought, we weren’t any closer to winning. It was always one step forward and two steps back. It felt like the war was going to last forever, like life itself had been put on hold. Like that was the new normal.”

It had been such a relief when it was over. Kallus had never felt happier or more hopeful than when he heard the news that Palpatine had proclaimed himself Emperor, thus ending the war for good. But how could he explain that to Zeb, who saw the old man as the embodiment of everything that was wrong and evil in the galaxy?

Kallus heaved a deep sigh. He felt hollowed out, empty, but also like some kind of burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He’d kept those memories locked up inside for way too long, never finding anyone he wanted to share them with. Until Zeb, of course. Everything was different with Zeb.

“Thank you for telling me this,” the Lasat said. “I know it can’t have been easy for you.”

Kallus gave him a pleading look. “Do you understand now why I do what I do? We can’t afford another war, Zeb. This galaxy wouldn’t survive it. I’ll do anything to stop it from happening again.”

“Even turning a blind eye on the Empire’s cruelty?”

Kallus tried to protest, but instead he just stared at Zeb silently, feeling lost. The Lasat moved closer to him, slowly, like he was approaching a cornered beast, and put his hands on the agent’s shoulders.

“Real peace is more than just the absence of war, Kallus,” he said softly. “It’s having freedom to live your life however you choose, safety for you and your loved ones, power to protect your land and your people…  It damn well isn’t submitting to someone else’s will just for the sake of avoiding conflict.”

A slight tremor shook Kallus’s spine. He wanted to deny Zeb’s words, to defend the Empire, but every argument his brain supplied sounded too much like pre-rehearsed Imperial propaganda, even to himself. There was nothing he could do to stop the Lasat from baring his deepest fears and doubts out in the open.

And Zeb certainly wouldn’t stop. “If the Empire goes to your planet and spoils it until it’s not recognizable anymore, if they make working in their factories mandatory, if they answer even the slightest disobedience with death... Can you really call that peace? Or is it just fear?”

“That’s not…” Kallus started to protest, but he cut himself off mid-sentence.

“Not what? Not true?” Zeb insisted, kindly but firmly. “Perhaps not in the Core Worlds, I dunno, but here? Come on, Kallus. You may be Coruscanti, but you’ve been in the Outer Rim long enough. You’ve seen them do it over and over. Karabast, you’ve done it yourself.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment and Kallus felt his resolution weakening with every passing second.

“You can’t lie anymore, can you?” Zeb went on mercilessly. “You want to repeat to me the same excuses they’ve given you, say that they were necessary sacrifices for the greater good or some shit like that. But even  _ you  _ don’t believe it. Deep down inside you know I’m right.”

“And what is the alternative?” Kallus retorted through gritted teeth, jerking himself away from Zeb’s hands. “The Republic, so riddled with corruption and bureaucracy that it would let a whole world perish while the Senate formed a committee to decide if they would help? Or the Jedi, more preoccupied with their own power than the people they had vowed to protect? Shit, they started the war themselves on Geonosis!”

“The Jedi didn’t do that, where the kriff did you get that from?” Zeb replied in a disbelieving tone.

“It’s in every history book I’ve ever read!” Kallus nearly yelled, his arms flailing in a frustrated gesture. 

“You mean every history book  _ the Empire _ has allowed you to read, don’t you?”

Kallus blinked a couple of times, stuttering in confusion. “That’s not… You just… That’s ridiculous! Does everything have to be a conspiracy now?”

“When it comes to the Empire’s propaganda machine? Damn right it is!”

“Oh, you’re impossible!” Kallus blurted out. The Lasat was watching him with something very close to pity in his eyes, and Kallus resented it with everything he had. He turned his back on Zeb so he didn’t have to see it. 

“Maybe I am impossible,” Zeb said calmly, unfazed by the fact that he was talking to Kallus’s back now. “But at least it’s better than following orders blindly. Come on, Kallus, open your eyes for once. What kind of force for good would ask you to commit genocide, no matter the reason? What kind of benevolent government needs to build so many weapons of mass destruction? Why would anyone who speaks the truth need to silence every other voice?” 

Kallus was breathing heavily, eyes huge with horror. He kept shaking his head but he had no idea what he was denying.

His lack of response seemed to get on Zeb’s nerves. “Just think about it, man!” he exclaimed. “Be honest with yourself!” Zeb moved around Kallus to face him again, obviously determined to have his say whether the man wanted to hear it or not. “I know the truth is hard to swallow, but you have to face it,” he insisted, a touch of desperation in his voice. “Because I know you can be better than them. So much better. But you need to stop fooling yourself, and realize you’re not working for the greater good with these people. You’re only working for the Emperor’s power.”

And that was it: the  _ coup de grace _ , the killing blow. Zeb had finally managed to unearth Kallus’s deepest, most secret doubt, the one that terrified him so much he hadn’t allowed himself to let it take shape even in the privacy of his own mind. He felt his faith shatter and his whole world fall apart, the metaphorical walls crumbling over him and burying him alive.

“No…” The agent took a step back, his whole body trembling, his head slowly shaking sideways in an almost compulsive motion. “No!”

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t stop his heart from hammering inside his chest.  _ This must be what dying feels like, _ he thought. Something snapped inside him then, like a spring being released from its confinements, and all that tightly coiled energy that had been accumulating inside of him exploded at once.

He turned and started running into the desert, ignoring Zeb’s cries for him to stop.


	9. Chapter 9

Kallus ran until he felt his lungs on fire, fueled by the rage and pain burning through his body. He didn’t even pay attention to where he was going, nor did he care. The only thing on his mind was the need to keep running.

He finally stopped near an outcropping of rocks. He was panting, doubled over with his hands on his knees, his heart hammering inside his chest like it was about to burst.

Part of him hated Zeb for saying all those horrible things. But there was another part, the one that was still lucid and self-aware enough, that kept telling him that Zeb had never lied to him and this was no exception. The Lasat wasn’t wrong about the Empire, but even worse, he wasn’t wrong about Kallus knowing it for quite some time now.

It was true. He had seen everything Zeb said, he had been disgusted by it, but he’d done nothing. He simply had found a roundabout way to justify every single atrocity, because facing the truth would have meant making decisions he was too afraid to make.

He’d been a coward. But he couldn’t hide anymore.

His whole career was a travesty. All the terrible things he’d done in the name of peace and order, all those times he’d shut down his own conscience in order to do his job. Like a fanatic,  he had stubbornly clung to the idea that the Empire could never be in the wrong, because then _he_ could never be in the wrong either.

Everything came rushing through his mind in an endless parade of shame and guilt: the massacre of Lasan, the blockade over Lothal starving innocent people, the murder of Minister Tua… The list was so long it threatened to drag him all the way to hell.

He was still having a hard time breathing, but it had nothing to do with the run anymore.

There was a sound of steps at his back and for a brief moment Kallus thought Zeb had followed him. But then he heard an inhuman shriek and he was suddenly very aware that he was alone, at night, in the middle of Tatooine’s desert.

The hair on the nape of his neck stood up as he looked over his shoulder to see three Tusken raiders standing behind him, weapons in hand.

But instead of fear, a savage glee flooded him and he smiled ferociously. The promise of a fight made his blood rush in anticipation, welcoming the much needed outlet for his misery and anger. He raised a hand to grab his bo-rifle, but then remembered he had left it in the ship.

 _Even better,_ he thought.

Kallus turned around and grabbed the nearest Tusken’s rifle, too fast for the other ones to react in time. The agent pulled the weapon from his hands and clubbed him in the head with it, hearing the satisfying crack of the guy’s skull before he fell to the ground, either unconscious or dead.

The other two had recovered from the surprise and began shooting their rifles at him. Kallus ducked behind a rock to get some cover and started returning fire, but in the dark it was nearly impossible to know where he was aiming. Luckily for him, it was just as difficult for his attackers.

At least, until he ran out of ammo.

“Karabast!” he yelled angrily, the fact he had used Zeb’s signature curse barely registering. He had been shooting like the tusken weapon was a blaster and not an old relic which used actual bullets.

“Damn this primitive piece of shit!” he mumbled, but he didn’t throw the rifle away like he wanted to. Even empty, it could still be used as a staff, and there was no doubt he was going to need it, if the muffled sound of approaching steps was any indication.

He assumed the raiders would come at him from both sides, so he wasn’t going to wait for them. As silently as he could, he climbed on top of the rock, just a shadow moving in the darkness, and set his own ambush for them.

Kallus had guessed right. The Tusken surrounded the boulder slowly, trying to surprise him. As soon as they met on the other side, Kallus jumped on top of them, kicking them to the ground.

In the following chaos, he managed to disarm them both and then started hitting them with a vengeance. The Tusken were tough people and had an advantage in number, but they were no match for Kallus’s training and, more importantly, for his anger. He kept throwing punches and kicks, cleanly dodging every attempt the raiders made at hitting back. Soon the Tusken were running away, taking his fallen comrade with them and disappearing into the night.

Which left Kallus alone again, panting from the exertion and just as frustrated as he was ten minutes ago, only a little more tired.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a large shadow slightly darker than the rest and turned towards it with his guard up, only to recognize Zeb’s massive silhouette leaning on another rock.

The Lasat had his arms crossed over his chest, looking completely relaxed. Kallus lowered his fists immediately.

“How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to enjoy the show,” the Lasat replied nonchalantly.

Kallus opened his arms and let them fall against his sides again in an exasperated gesture. “Well, thanks for the help,” he said sarcastically.

“Didn’t look like you needed any.”

Instead of answering, the agent rubbed a hand over his face impatiently. He was still on edge, and Zeb’s calm demeanor wasn’t helping. The Lasat detached himself from the stone and walked slowly towards Kallus, stopping a couple of steps away from him.

“Do you feel better now?” he asked softly.

Kallus stared at Zeb, shaken.

_He understands. He gets it. That’s why he didn’t intervene in the fight, because he knew I needed that. And it shouldn’t matter so much that he gets it, that he sees me, but it does. Stars, it makes all the difference._

And just like that, the den broke and all the emotions the agent had been trying to hold back flooded him at once.

He tried to answer the question, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t let a single sound get out. The only thing he could do was shake his head weakly and watch in horror as his traitorous body did something it hadn’t done since he was a small child.

Kallus started to cry.

He covered his face with both hands, ashamed of his lack of control, which is why he didn’t see Zeb come closer. But suddenly he felt powerful arms encircling him and a hand gently guiding his head to lay on a solid chest, warm and comforting.

Kallus wrapped his arms around the Lasat’s torso and held on for dear life. “You were right,” he said between sobs, the sound of his voice muffled against Zeb’s jumpsuit. “About the Empire, about me. You were right about everything.”

“It’s okay,” Zeb whispered, softly caressing Kallus’s hair. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“No, I’m not. I’m a coward and a murderer. It’ll never be okay.”

“Shh, just let it all out. We’ll make it better, I promise.”

Not a single complaint. No sign of impatience. No expectations that Kallus should bottle it all up and keep going like nothing had happened. Zeb held him for a long time, letting him pour his heart out though his tears like it wasn’t a sign of weakness, like it was a normal thing to do. The Lasat kept him close even when the front of his jumpsuit started to get wet, gently running his hands up and down Kallus’s back, until the agent’s sobs quieted down and he felt confident enough that he wouldn’t have another breakdown.

“Why are you so good to me?” the agent asked, rubbing the traces of tears off his face with a hand and looking up at the Lasat’s face.

Zeb gave him a little smile. “Because you’re going through some tough shit right now, buddy.”

“But I don’t deserve your kindness.”

Zeb’s hands tightened briefly on Kallus’s back, then one of them went to his face to carefully pull back a loose strand of hair.

“That’s not the point,” he said. “My kindness is mine to give, so I choose who gets to receive it. Just like my forgiveness.”

Those words, although probably meant to make him feel better, made Kallus jerk himself away from Zeb’s arms.

“Don’t say that!” he exclaimed, eyes wide with despair. “Don’t speak of forgiveness, please, I don’t think I can take it.”

Zeb sighed with an air of resignation. “All right, forget it. I get you’re not ready yet. Come on, we should go back to the ship, it’s not safe out here.”

It took them a good fifteen minutes of walking in companionable silence to get back to where the _Ice Moon_ was waiting. Kallus was a little sheepish to discover he had run so far, but, in a way, he was glad too. The long walk gave him the opportunity to calm down, to enjoy Zeb’s presence and his quiet support, and to think. And he had a lot to think about.

“Maybe we should go with your idea of resting now and leaving tomorrow, after all,” Kallus said when the ship appeared in their sight again. “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah, me too,” Zeb replied. “And don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like you could use a drink.”

Kallus made a face. “No, no drinking. I mean it.”

“A pity,” Zeb said with a small chuckle, punching in the code to open the ramp. “Cause it seems our friend Frok felt very guilty about trying to sell us to a horny Hutt, so he put a very expensive bottle of Corellian brandy with the supplies he gave us. Not bad for an apology.”

They entered the ship, closing the ramp behind them. Once in the common room, Kallus took a seat and his upper body practically collapsed on top of the table, head buried between his crossed arms. He heard Zeb rummaging through the cabinets, and a few moments later he felt the soft thump of a bottle and two glasses being set on the table.

Kallus lifted his head just enough to see Zeb sitting down and pouring a little bit of brandy for himself, leaving the man the choice to join him or not.

“Thank you, Zeb, but no amount of alcohol is going to ease this feeling anyway,” he said with an air of defeat, his head propped up on one hand.

“I could always hug you again if ya don’t wanna drink,” Zeb joked, in a not-so-subtle attempt to pique him and shake him out of his somber mood. “You look like you could use a lot of those. I’m guessing the Empire isn’t too big on physical contact, right?”

“Nor did I miss it,” Kallus replied sourly, deciding to go along with it. “It’s not like I wanted a hug from Grand Moff Tarkin, you know?”

That got a loud laugh from Zeb, which oddly made Kallus feel slightly better. However, the reprieve only lasted as long as the laughter itself, and then the oppressive weight on his chest came back in full force. Kallus lowered his gaze to the surface of the table. “Thank you for what you’re doing, Zeb, but this isn’t something you just put aside and forget. I’ve just confronted the fact that my whole life is a lie and that I am the human equivalent of a pile of garbage. How do you go on from that, huh?”

Zeb raised his glass to mimic a toast, before taking a small sip. “Well, at least you’re owning up to it. That’s a start.”

Kallus felt silently grateful that the Lasat wasn’t trying to brush the whole thing off. No instant forgiveness, no _‘it’s all in the past, let’s move on’_ bullshit. They both knew the agent had a long way ahead of him before he could even start to believe he might be forgiven, and they both took it seriously. Kallus respected that.

The man heaved a deep sigh. “It’s not enough.”

“No. It’s not.” Zeb put his drink down and crossed his arms over the table, leaning forward with his piercing gaze set on Kallus. “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

There was something about the expectant way Zeb was looking at him that made Kallus pause. He squinted at him suspiciously.

“Are you…?” He felt stupid just for thinking it, the idea was ludicrous, but he had to ask anyway. “Are you trying to recruit me?”

“Pal, I’ve been trying to recruit you since you shot those stormtroopers in the face and broke me out. Don’t tell me you just realized right this second.”

Kallus huffed incredulously. “Are you crazy? Why would the Rebellion even want me, unless it’s in shackles and locked up in a cell?”

But Zeb dismissed his protest with a flip of his hand. “You wouldn’t be the first Imperial defector we’ve taken in, ya know?”

“Yes, but this is me, Zeb. I’ve been harassing _your_ crew specifically. For _two whole years_. They’d just as soon see me dead than work with me. And I can’t say I blame them.”

Zeb shrugged, gazing at him with a kind smile and a softness in his eyes that made Kallus shiver.

“I’ll vouch for ya,” he said.

Just like that. Like it was the easiest thing in the world. After everything Kallus had done to him, after he had literally destroyed his life, Zeb was offering him his support, his trust, his friendship, a new purpose and a place to belong. Just when he had just lost everything that had given his life meaning through half of it.

The agent —no, the _former_ agent— would’ve never believed someone could have that much goodness in them if he wasn’t seeing it with his own eyes.

An unknown feeling, overwhelming in its intensity, flooded Kallus with a strength that left him breathless, and he wondered if this was what falling in love felt like. He’d grown up in a loving family, he knew what true devotion between two people looked like, but never had experienced it himself. But this… this was new, and terrifying, but exhilarating at the same time. It did feel a little bit like falling, actually, with his stomach jumping and his heart racing like that.

 _Oh, shit_ , he thought. _I’m in love with Garazeb Orrelios_.

But it was kind of fitting, wasn’t it? The universe couldn’t have designed a most perfect punishment for his crimes, because there was no way Zeb would ever return those feelings. The Lasat might have offered him his friendship, and maybe there was even some attraction there —Kallus wasn’t completely blind to the tension growing between them during this trip—, but he doubted it could become anything deeper.

No one would fall for the man responsible for the destruction of their home world. It just didn’t happen.

And even if, by some sort of miracle, there was a chance Zeb could love him back, they couldn’t be together anyway. Kallus already knew what he had to do if he wanted to start making amends, the idea had taken shape into his brain while he wasn’t fully aware of it, but it was there, and it was the only thing that made sense. And it could very well cost him his life.

“All right, I’ll do it,” he declared firmly. “I’ll help the Rebellion. By doing what I do best.”

Zeb straightened up in his seat, his face suddenly worried. “What do you mean?”

Taking a deep breath, Kallus gathered his courage and met the Lasat’s gaze. “I’ll spy on the Empire for you. I’ll send inside information, sabotage their plans whenever I can, that sort of thing. I can be more useful for the Rebellion like that.”

Zeb was silent for a few seconds, staring at Kallus like he was processing what he’d just heard. Then he got up and began pacing the room, running both hands down his face.

“I can’t believe you,” he grumbled, his anger barely contained. “Those Tusken must have hit you pretty hard in the head, ‘cause you’ve clearly lost your mind.” He stopped and went back to the table, slamming his hands on it and making the glasses —and Kallus— jump. A few drops of brandy spilled on his knuckles, but he didn’t pay it any attention. “Are you actually trying to get yourself killed?! Is that what this is about?!” he yelled.

“No, Zeb, of course not!” Kallus answered, taken aback by the Lasat’s reaction. “Listen to me, please. Think of all the good I could do, the kind of intel I could provide the Rebellion with. I could help you stay one step ahead of the Empire for a change, I could protect you—”

“You could get executed for treason!” Zeb interrupted. “And that’s assuming your bosses take you back. They’re more likely to kill you for the whole mess of my escape!”

“That’s not going to happen,” Kallus assured him. “I’ve only been missing for three or four rotations, the whole thing will be swept off with a reprimand and maybe a couple of extra shifts. Nothing serious.”

“You can’t be certain of that. It’s way too risky.”

“Zeb, I’m ISB. That means the Empire has invested a lot of money in my training. Trust me, they don’t dispose of us so liberally.”

The Lasat visibly sulked, his mouth turned into a thin line and his brow furrowed. For a brief moment, it looked like he was going to give in, although reluctantly, but then he straightened his back, crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, his whole body language turning defensive.

“No. No way. You’re not going back to those cold bastards, you’re coming with us.”

“Oh, for star’s sake, Zeb, stop being so stubborn!” Kallus said, exasperated. “Don’t you see how groundbreaking this could be for the Rebellion? How many times do you think you’ll get a high ranking officer to turn coat? This opportunity may never present itself again, I _have_ to do this!”

“There has to be another way!”

“Not if I want my betrayal to mean something!” he insisted, raising his voice in frustration. “Why don’t you understand? Why can’t you see this is the right thing to do?”

“BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO STAY WITH ME!”

A heavy, stunned silence fell over the room as they stared at each other in shock. Kallus’s heart was beating so hard he thought even Zeb must be hearing it. He breathed hard, trying to find his voice, as he stood up from his seat very, very slowly.

“W…What?”

Zeb slightly lifted his hands and let them drop to his sides again, like he was too angry to care anymore. “There, I said it!” he exclaimed. “You were wondering why I was irrational? That’s because this thing doesn’t make any kriffing sense!!”

“Zeb…”

“Just a week ago I hated you with every fiber of my being and now I have this massive crush on you! And I have no idea how that happened!”

“Zeb, please…”

“So yeah, maybe you’re right and you should go back to the imps to play the double agent, but I can’t stand it! I hate that we’ll be apart, I hate that you could…” His voice broke and he took a shaky breath before speaking again. “You could die if they find out what you’re doing! And I hate that I won’t be there to have your back! I want you fighting by my side, not... _risking your life all alone_!”

“ZEB!”

“What?!”

Kallus swallowed hard before answering, his voice shaking. “I feel the same way.”

The Lasat blinked at him a few times, and then his face lit up and he grinned. “You do?”

Kallus couldn’t help returning the smile, Zeb’s joy was contagious. “Yes. Except it does make sense for me. In fact, being in love with you is the _only_ thing that makes sense in my life right now, if I’m h—”

Zeb didn’t let him finish. He covered the distance between them in one long stride, cradled Kallus’s face with his hands and kissed him fiercely.

There it was again, the sensation of falling suddenly, like taking a steep dive in a TIE fighter: his stomach dropped, his blood rushed through his veins, his knees went weak and he had to hold on to Zeb’s shoulders to anchor himself.

It was like nothing he’d ever felt before.

Zeb’s lips were warm and firm, his kiss voracious and demanding, but that was perfect, because Kallus couldn’t get enough of him either. He opened his mouth to let Zeb’s tongue in and nearly went dizzy from the rush of sensation. The Lasat’s hands left his face to wander down his shoulders and back, pulling him closer and grabbing his ass.

“Zeb…” Kallus mumbled, words barely comprehensible against the Lasat’s mouth. Interrupting this was the last thing he wanted, but there was still a tiny voice of reason in his head and he couldn’t make it shut up. “Zeb, wait.”

Zeb’s hands went  back to his waist immediately and he pulled back to look at him.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want this?”

“Oh, I want it. Very much,” Kallus replied, panting. “But this will only make it more difficult to say goodbye. You know that, right?”

“Good,” Zeb said with a dark look in his eyes. “Then maybe you won’t leave me.”

And he kissed Kallus again, effectively stopping any protest he might have wanted to make.

It was a terrible idea to let this go on, and Kallus knew it. It could only lead to hurt and disappointment for Zeb, because he had to go on with his plan of leaving no matter what. It was inevitable. But he wanted this so badly, he needed this memory to take it with him, to treasure it in the time to come, to help him survive what was ahead of him. He knew he should have been noble and resisted, but he just wasn’t strong enough.

Zeb lifted him up and Kallus wrapped his legs around the Lasat’s waist. They made their way to the passenger cabins like that, bumping into doors and walls because they refused to stop their sloppy kissing. Kallus’s back hit a bulkhead particularly hard, his breath coming out of him in a gasp, but the slight discomfort was forgotten as soon as he felt Zeb’s groin pressing against his, hips rocking up and down in a maddening rhythm.

“Oh, kriff, that feels great,” Kallus said between harsh breaths. “But I… I wish we had something. You know, to… uh.”

Zeb seemed to get his meaning with that somehow, and he smiled wickedly.

“Yeah, about that…” he whispered against Kallus’s mouth. “Remember what I told you earlier about Frok’s supplies and him wanting to compensate us for the shit he pulled before? Well, you’re not gonna believe what the guy packed with the toiletries.”

Kallus pulled back a little to stare at him incredulously, eyes wide. “No way.”

Zeb nodded.

The ex Imperial smiled widely. “All right, he’s forgiven for everything.”

They both laughed and Zeb carried him the rest of the way to the closest bunk. The war was temporarily forgotten, their duties could wait, nothing outside their room mattered at all. This moment belonged to them and them only. And Kallus was determined to make it count.

No experience he’d ever had before had prepared him for what being with Zeb would make him feel. The awe of undressing Zeb’s beautiful body. The wonder of exploring every curve and hard plane with his hands and his mouth. The thrill of getting himself ready under Zeb’s hungry look. The glorious feeling of Zeb sliding in and out of him. Hot puffs of breath caressing the back of Kallus’s neck, sharp teeth barely grazing his skin and making him shiver, Zeb’s moans in the man’s ears. It felt so good Kallus stopped caring about his own pleasure at some point. Just the intimacy was worth it, he wouldn’t even care at all if he came or not.

But he did come, crying out in ecstasy, spilling over Zeb’s hand and clenching his inner muscles spasmodically. It wasn’t too long until he felt Zeb fall over the edge too, making a soft, desperate sound Kallus knew he’d never forget, no matter how long he got to live.

Zeb wrapped his arms tightly around Kallus, holding him as they both came down from it and tenderly kissing every accessible spot on the man’s face, neck and shoulder. Kallus covered Zeb’s forearm with a hand, squeezing it, trying to make sure this was really happening and he wasn’t dreaming the whole thing.

He could barely believe it himself. Zeb’s love, his warmth, his affection… Kallus wasn’t supposed to get this. It defied all logic.

But he had it, and he wasn’t letting go. Anyone who thought he didn’t deserve it could kindly go to hell, starting with his own conscience. Maybe he wasn’t worthy of this now, but he would make himself worthy.

As they collapsed on the mattress together, trying to catch their breath, Kallus had the certainty that no one, not the Empire, not the Rebellion, not even the Force itself, would be able to stop him from coming back to Zeb one day. He didn’t know how, but he was going to survive his mission one way or another, and then they’d be together again.

That was a promise.


	10. Chapter 10

The silence in the room was a peaceful one. Zeb knew Kallus wasn’t asleep —not yet, anyway— from the sound of his breathing. Calm, but not deep enough.

He kept absently threading his fingers through the man’s hair, enjoying the weight of the blonde head on his chest and the feel of naked skin pressed against his fur. The small bunk didn’t offer them much room, but he doubted they would have used more even if they’d had it anyway. It felt good to be this close, Kallus half on top of him and their legs entangled.

He heard a soft chuckle coming from Kallus, the vibration reverberating into his own sternum.

“What’s so funny?” he asked with a smile.

Kallus raised his head to look at him. “I was imagining our reaction if somebody had told us… I don’t know, a month ago… that we would end up like this.”

Zeb’s grin became wider, more mischievous. “Now that would’ve required courage, I can tell you that.”

Kallus returned his smile, a look of adoration in his eyes. Then something flashed through his face, a shadow of pain, like he had just remembered any of the reasons why he thought he shouldn’t have this. His grin faltered. He lowered his head, resting it on Zeb’s chest again, hiding his face —and his emotions— from him.

Zeb sighed and gave him a brief one-armed hug. “It could be always like this from now on, ya know?” he said softly. He had to try, at least. “You and me, living together, going on missions, watching each other’s backs. Doing everything we can to take the Empire down.”

Very slowly, reluctantly even, Kallus disentangled himself from Zeb’s arms and sat up on the bed, looking at his lover with a sad expression.

“I haven’t earned that yet, Zeb,” he answered calmly.

The words and the grief behind them made Zeb’s heart sink. “I was afraid you’d say something like that,” he replied with a sigh.

“Why?” Kallus asked curiously.

“Because you’re pulling the honor card and I have no defense against it.”

Kallus frowned a little bit. “What do you mean?”

Zeb sat up too, then changed his position so he could face Kallus. He lifted a hand to the man’s jaw, to cup his face as he kissed him briefly. “I mean you’re talking about doing the right thing, and I’d be an asshole if I tried to convince you not to do it. So yeah, I love that you’re so honorable but I kind of hate it at the same time, as crazy as it may sound.”

Kallus covered the Lasat’s hand with his own, his brow scrunched in sorrow. “Zeb…”

But he shook his head, stopping the man from interrupting. “It’s okay. I understand. I know what it’s like to feel undeserving, to think you’ve failed and to need to try and make things right somehow, even if you can’t undo your wrongs. I know it doesn’t matter how many times I say that I forgive you, because it won’t mean a thing until you start forgiving yourself.”

His thumb was gently caressing Kallus’s facial hair while they gazed into each other’s eyes. Zeb remembered there was a time when he’d hated that handsome face and it seemed like it had happened in another life. “I want you by my side, Kallus, but not at the cost of making you feel like you don’t belong. Whatever you need to do to find your peace, I won’t stop you.”

Kallus’s face lit up with surprise and hope. “Does that mean you trust me enough to let me go?”

Zeb’s heart was already breaking with the knowledge that their time together was soon to be over, but he tried not to let it show. Kallus had enough burdens on his conscience as it was.

“The Fulcrum code phrase is  _ ‘By the light of Lothal’s moons’ _ ,” he said by way of an answer. “It’s what you’ll have to say whenever you want to contact Rebel Command, to let them know you’re one of us. I’ll teach you the frequencies you need to use.”

Kallus tried to speak, but his voice was too heavy with emotion and it broke before he could say anything. The man threw himself into Zeb’s arms and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you,” he said against the Lasat’s shoulder, his voice muffled. When they pulled apart, Kallus held Zeb’s hands and entwined their fingers. “I won’t let you down.”

“Yeah, I know,” Zeb replied, hearing his own voice waver and shake. “You’re sure you wanna do this?”

“I don’t want to be away from you,” Kallus answered with the slightest hint of a smile. “But I want to do something good for the people I hurt before. And I want to do everything in my power to help you, to help the Rebellion. I honestly can’t think of any better way to achieve that.”

Zeb nodded. There was no way to argue with that, but he had other worries on his mind. “And… what about us?” he asked shyly.

Kallus’s face fell and he looked down at their joined hands. He took some time to gather his thoughts, as if he wanted to make sure he would say everything he meant to say. 

“I have never felt anything like this for anybody else, Zeb,” he began. “I want… No, I  _ need _ to believe this isn’t the end, but I know I have no right to ask you to wait for me—”

“Shut up, I’m waiting anyway.”

Kallus couldn’t help the little huffed laugh that escaped his mouth at the interruption, but then he got serious again, gazing into Zeb’s eyes. “It won’t be easy. I won’t be able to talk to you, not directly, and if by any chance we meet on the battlefield, we’ll have to pretend we’re still enemies. And I don’t know how long this situation will last. Kriff, I don’t even know  _ if _ I’ll make it.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Zeb cut him off again, his whole body shaking with rejection at the idea of Kallus’s hypothetical death. “You have to promise me you’ll be careful, okay? You do everything you can to stay alive and come back to me.”

“I will,” the man assured him, nodding solemnly.

“And don’t push it, ya hear me?” he kept going, his voice trembling. “At the slightest sign that you’ve been made, you get out of there.”

Kallus sighed with some sort of fond exasperation. “I won’t take unnecessary risks, I promise.”

Zeb grumbled under his breath. “Now you sound like a kriffin’ lawyer.” He pointed an accusing finger at Kallus. “There’s way too much room for interpretation in there for my liking, but I know you’re not gonna give me anything more binding so I’ll take what I can get.”

Kallus’s knowing smile was his only answer. He leaned forward to kiss Zeb again, slowly.

“So… I guess this is it, right?” he said afterwards, his voice barely audible, and Zeb felt something hard and nasty clench inside his chest.

“I guess so, yes,” he replied. “Come on, let’s go back to the common room. Neither of us is gonna get any sleep tonight anyway. And I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

He got up from the bed and started looking for his clothes among the heap on the floor. He got dressed without looking at Kallus, not out of any sudden sense of modesty, but because it was one more step towards their separation and he didn’t want to acknowledge it yet. Once they were ready, Kallus took Zeb’s hand in his and looked at him hopefully, to which the Lasat could only answer with a small smile and a kiss on the man’s hair.

“We’ll be fine,” he said, resting his forehead against Kallus’s. “I know we will.”

They grabbed a couple of rations, sharing a look that clearly said they both were remembering the dinner they’d had the previous night, and went back to the cockpit.

Zeb took the captain’s seat and gestured for the comms apathetically. “I suppose I should call my friends, then.”

“No,” Kallus stopped him, looking thoughtful. “I’d rather you drop me off somewhere near an Imperial base and take the  _ Ice Moon _ with you. I don’t want our ship to end up gathering dust in an Imperial hangar. Or worse, taken apart for scrap.”

_ Our ship _ . Zeb had to fight a wave of emotion at that, so he turned to the console and pulled up a star chart.

“Well, then,” he said, making an effort to have his voice sound normal. “Where to?”

“As far from here as we can reasonably get,” Kallus answered with a meaningful look at Zeb. “I don’t care where. I just want the journey to be as long as possible.”

Zeb felt a shiver run up his spine. If Kallus wanted to scrape a few more hours together before the inevitable heartbreak, he wasn’t going to complain. And he damn well wasn’t going to waste those precious hours thinking about their imminent separation, either.

As the ship traveled through hyperspace, they made love slowly and languidly, taking their time to explore each other’s body, to commit it to memory. Their joined shapes moved in long thrusts, trying to make it last as long as possible, Kallus’s legs wrapped around Zeb’s hips and Zeb’s gaze fixed on Kallus’s eyes. They drew it out until they could bear it no longer and had to pick up the pace, ending in a prolonged orgasm that shook them both and left them boneless. 

They were asleep when the navicomputer started beeping, warning them that they were about to drop from hyperspace. Wordlessly, they got up from the bed, shared a quick shower and went to get ready for landing.

Once they were on the planet, there was nothing left to do but say goodbye.

But still they lingered for as long as they could, embracing in silence because they knew when they started talking it would be the beginning of the end.

They had to pull apart eventually, just enough to look into each other’s eyes, but not letting go completely.

“Be careful, okay?” Zeb insisted. “I know I’ve already told you this, but just humor me, I need to say it again.” It was a silly idea, but he felt it would be bad luck to take it for granted. He had to repeat it, for his own peace of mind.

“I will be. Trust me, Zeb, I’ll take every precaution,” Kallus assured him softly.

“And don’t try to win the war all on your own, ya hear me? You don’t have to stay there ‘til the end, you can come with us anytime. Just say the word and we’ll extract you.”

Kallus nodded solemnly. Then he gave Zeb a small smile and lifted a hand to caress his whiskers, an adoring look in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For changing my life.”

Zeb had to bite back tears. “Just make sure you come back so I can keep changing it a little more, okay?”

“I will,” he answered, his voice breaking a little, too. “Zeb, I wish there was another way. I’ve already hurt you so much, I hate that I have to hurt you again.”

“Hey, stop that. I know why you’re doing this, I get it. And listen, even if I have to wait years, or even if we never see each other again, I regret nothing. If all we’ll ever have together was this night, then I’m glad we had it.”

And he meant it, every word.

They shared a long kiss, soft and tender, and then they realized they’d run out of ways to delay the inevitable. It was time for Kallus to go.

“Until we meet again,” Kallus said, his voice hopeful and determined.

“Until we meet again,” Zeb replied in the same tone.

Watching him open the ramp and step out of the ship was one of the hardest things Zeb had ever done in his life. He moved back to the cockpit and sat in the pilot’s chair so he could see Kallus walking away in the direction of the nearest Imperial base. The man turned around once to wave a hand in goodbye, and Zeb returned the gesture.

He stayed there, following Kallus’s tall figure with his eyes as it grew increasingly smaller with the distance, until he completely disappeared from his view.

Then he waited another hour, just in case.

And when he finally accepted he could fool himself no longer, Zeb started up the ship and left the planet, setting a course to Atollon.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“So... let me get this straight,” Ezra said slowly. “You’re saying that, since the last time we saw you, Kallus has turned into a good guy and the two of you are... sort of  _ dating _ ?”

Zeb grumbled a curse under his breath, letting his face fall into the palm of his hand. “More or less, yeah.”

The kid looked up as he mimicked the motion of counting with his fingers. “How long have you been away?”

“Ezra, come on, give him a break,” Hera chided him.

They were all sitting at the table in the mess hall of the  _ Ghost _ , Rex included, huddled around Zeb like they were afraid he’d get lost again if they gave him enough space. His return to the base had been received with a lot of hugs and screams of joy, which had helped a lot to ease the heaviness he carried in his heart. But then there had come the time to explain what had happened.

It hadn’t been easy. It wasn’t in his nature to be so forthcoming with his private issues, but he needed them to trust Kallus, so he couldn’t go with a half-assed story. He had to convince them that he had changed for real, so when the agent started sending information, they would take him seriously.

So he had decided to come clean of everything. Well, not  _ everything _ , of course, but there was no way he could leave his feelings for Kallus out of that story. It would have felt dishonest. This was his family, and they had a right to know the whole truth. They had a right to doubt him, to think he had allowed his feelings to cloud his judgement. If wasn’t like he hadn’t doubted himself in his darkest hours.

But he had no doubts left about Kallus, not a single one. 

That didn’t make it any easier to look at his friends in the eye.

“Hey, big guy, I believe you,” Sabine said, gently jabbing her elbow into Zeb’s side. “You’re gorgeous enough to make an Imperial change sides. Of course Kallus couldn’t resist you.”

He gave her a grateful smile, suddenly overwhelmed with affection for her. In all the years they’d known each other, she had never failed to have his back. He should have known she would be the first to support him.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Hera said pensively. “If Kallus has really turned, he could be a great asset for us. This could change everything. Still, I’d prefer to be cautious until we know for sure.”

“He wasn’t trying to fool me, Hera,” Zeb insisted, unable to keep himself from defending Kallus. “Once we escaped, he never asked me where our base was. He never even tried to trick me into revealing information about the Rebellion. And he could have, he had plenty of opportunities.”

“That’s a good sign indeed, Zeb,” she replied kindly. “And in any case, I’ll always be grateful to him for saving you, so there’s that. Let’s just say he has a lot of points in my book right now. He better not waste them.”

A chorus of agreement followed her words, as everyone repeated how glad they were to have Zeb back home, safe and sound.

Well, everyone except Chopper, but that was kind of a given.

“I think we should let him get some rest now,” Kanan suggested, and Zeb felt so grateful he could have hugged the jedi. He was beyond tired, having barely slept at all the night before. But even more than sleep, what he needed was to be alone with his thoughts for a little while.

They all started to leave, each of them mentioning a certain task they had to take care of. Zeb stood up too, more than ready to go to his bunk and sleep for a week. He didn’t get to do it, though, because Kanan put a hand on his shoulder to slow him down, allowing the others to leave them alone in the room.

“You’ll see him again,” the jedi said, his hand squeezing slightly. He sounded so certain the Lasat arched an eyebrow at him, his head perking up.

“You’ve seen that in the Force or something?” Zeb asked, half joking and half hopeful.

Kanan chuckled. “No, that was never my specialty. But I know you. I’m sure you wouldn’t put your faith in Kallus like this if he wasn’t worth it. And if someone like him can really change… Well, then everything is possible.”

“Even the end of the Empire?”

“Even the end of the Empire, yes.”

Zeb considered this, his hand playing with the long hair on his chin. “So maybe there is a future for us, huh? That’s what you’re saying.”

Kanan grinned at him with that wise, knowing smile that always made him look like an old man in the body of a young one. “I’m saying this whole thing with you and Kallus gives me hope.”

Zeb sighed deeply, looking down at his own hands. “Thanks, Kanan. Although right now I’d settle for knowing he’s still alive, that the Imperials didn’t execute him for going AWOL or something.”

“Maybe I can help with that,” said another voice from behind them.

They turned at the same time to see Ahsoka standing in the doorway, a kind smile on her lips. She walked to them with that ethereal, almost surreal grace of hers and put a hand on Zeb’s arm, squeezing reassuringly.

“I’ve just been told we have a new recruit amongst our forces,” she continued. “A very well situated recruit, I must add.”

Zeb’s ears perked up, his face transfixed with hope. “It’s Kallus? He contacted you?”

The woman nodded. “Yes, he did. And I must say, Zeb, I am very impressed with your recruitment skills. With someone of his rank giving us information, the whole course of the war could change.” She patted the Lasat’s forearm with a smile. “Well done.”

“I, uh…” Zeb mumbled, scratching the back of his head in confusion. “I really, really hope that’s not a dirty joke, Ahsoka. I’ve already been traumatized enough for one lifetime.”

The three of them laughed and, for the first time in the last few days, Zeb felt in his own heart that same hope Kanan was speaking about.

Yes, surely his friend was right. There would be a future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please put down the pitchforks, there's still one more chapter to go! (You didn't really think I'd end the story like this, right? I'm not that evil)


	11. Epilogue

_ He’s here. In the  _ Ghost _. For real. _

Zeb’s heart was beating faster than the scurrying feet of a hyperactive lothcat. Around him, the chaos of the afterbattle was little more than white noise to his ears. People passed him by in their comings and goings, some of them injured, others simply stunned and exhausted, but he only had focus for one of them. A man who was currently in the next bay, thanking Kanan for taking him in.

The door slid closed and he couldn’t hear the jedi’s response, but he knew Kanan would say something kind. He, like the rest of the crew, had been incredibly supportive of Zeb all this time. Even Chopper, in his own way. The droid had made it very clear it wasn’t because he gave a damn about Zeb’s feelings, but because he actually liked the ex Imperial. Which was good enough as far as Zeb was concerned.

The point was that he could trust his friends would welcome Kallus into their group. They had been ready to welcome him for over a year, in fact.

Zeb sighed. A whole year. A little more, actually. A year without seeing him, not even during missions. A year with nothing but his memories and the sound of Kallus’s distorted voice in the occasional Fulcrum message to get him by. And yet, his feelings for the former agent were just as strong as ever.

But of course they were. Every time he’d thought his yearning had started to subside, there would always be something to remind him of Kallus: a battle they could have fought together, a meal the man could have enjoyed, a mention of the Empire in a meeting, a dream… In all honesty, it didn’t take much to make Zeb think of Kallus at any given moment. He would find himself devouring every mission report he could get his hands on in search of any reference to Kallus’s intervention, or listening to Fulcrum’s recorded messages on a loop to try and discover some hidden code meant for him only.

He had missed him so kriffing much. And he’d been worried sick, too, knowing Kallus was all alone in the Empire. Zeb had his family to support him, but Kallus had no one. No friends, nobody to trust, nothing to ease the nostalgia. And on top of that, the constant pressure of having to lie to everyone all the time.

But now, the waiting was finally over. Kallus was right there, just a few steps away.

The only thing left to resolve was the little issue of Zeb’s total inability to go and talk to him.

He looked at the closed door and a new rush of anxiety surged through his belly, making his heart leap. He wanted to speak to him, more than anything.

He just couldn’t.

What if Kallus didn’t feel the same way anymore? It had been a long time, after all. Maybe the man had moved on. Yeah, he had been risking his life for the Rebellion this long, but it wasn’t like his only reason to become Fulcrum had been Zeb, right? That in itself wasn’t proof of anything other than his commitment to the cause.

There was only one way to know for sure. He should simply go and ask him. But just by thinking it, an uncomfortable feeling pooled in his stomach again and he thought he was going to be sick.

“Karabast,” he mumbled, hugging his own midriff to try and quiet down the sensation.

 

* * *

 

 

He was alive. He had escaped the Empire and he was alive. He had made it.

Kallus could barely believe it himself.

The adrenaline from the fight was wearing off and he was starting to feel exhaustion creeping down on his body. He ached all over from Thrawn’s brutal interrogation, but thankfully he didn’t think he had anything broken. He was sore and bruised, but nothing a little rest couldn’t heal.

He was much more worried about the fact that Zeb seemed to be ignoring him quite pointedly.

Kallus had barely caught a glimpse of the Lasat when they had brought him on board, but that was it. Jarrus had greeted him kindly, and even Sabine Wren had gently bumped her fist against his shoulder in passing, which Kallus assumed was the Mandalorian equivalent of saying ‘good job’. In fact, everybody was being amazingly nice to him, considering their history. Zeb, however, had yet to even say hi to him. And it was starting to make Kallus very nervous.

_ It’s all right,  _ he told himself. _ It’s only natural. He doesn’t feel the same anymore, that’s just it. But of course, if he has indeed moved on he will be reluctant to tell me, because he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. He is thoughtful like that. Ah, honestly, what else did I expect? We haven’t talked or seen each other in more than a year, for crying out loud. _

But time had done nothing to Kallus’s love for the Lasat, except turning it into his lifeline during the long months of loneliness and overwhelming stress. He’d held onto the memories of the days they’d spent on Tatooine, and the hope of being with Zeb again, in order to survive. Those countless nights alone in his quarters, lying on his bed with a hand down his pants as he remembered their one night together, had become the only thing keeping him from going crazy. All of that was true, but none of it was Zeb’s responsibility.

If anything, Kallus was grateful to Zeb for being his reason to push through it all. If he was alive today, it was thanks to that. He couldn’t ask for more.

But rationalizing it was one thing, and stopping it from hurting was another.

He felt the ship drop out of hyperspace for the third time. Surely they were arriving to their final destination at last.

The  _ Ghost _ landed next to what seemed to be the ruins of some ancient temple, surrounded by an exuberant jungle. Kallus had heard the name Yavin IV being dropped in several conversations around him, so he guessed that was where they were. He exited the ship with everyone else and then he stopped in the middle of the tarmac, unsure of what to do or where to go. He considered asking someone, but he felt a little self-conscious in his Imperial uniform.

“Need some help?”

Kallus turned around to find Bridger stepping down the ramp behind him. Still no sign of Zeb, though.

“I, uh…,” he began. “I honestly don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“That’s okay, everyone’s a little lost right now,” the boy replied, offering him an encouraging smile. “We’ll start by getting you officially enrolled, and then... maybe you should visit the infirmary. No offense, but you look like shit.”

“It appears worse than it is, really. I’m fine,” he said hastily, waving a hand in front of his face as if trying to encompass the whole extension of his bruises. He didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself or cause any trouble. The rebels already had enough injured people to worry about.

“Okay, but there’s no harm in checking, don’t you think?” the boy insisted. “Come on, let’s go see the quartermaster.”

 

* * *

 

Zeb was one of the last people to leave the ship. 

He had seen Kallus from a distance, standing on the landing platform and looking so utterly lost that, for a brief moment, Zeb had almost managed to overcome his anxiety to go help him. But then Ezra had apparently decided to take care of their newcomer, leading the former Imperial to the headquarters.

It was nice to see his friends trying so hard to make Kallus feel welcome. The downside of it, though, was to be left standing before the open ramp in the cargo bay, watching them walk away and feeling like a complete idiot. Again.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Kanan’s voice and the weight of his hand on Zeb’s shoulder shook the Lasat out of his thoughts.

“Nothing,” he said, with the strange feeling that he’d been caught doing something wrong. “We’re all okay.”

“That’s not what I mean. Why haven’t you talked to Kallus yet? You’ve been longing to see him again all this time, what are you waiting for?”

Zeb let out a sigh of defeat. His Jedi friend seemed to have acquired the ability to see a lot more since he had gone blind, if that made any sense.

“Honestly, Kanan, I have no idea,” he sighed. “I want to talk to him, I’ve tried, but every time it’s like I’m going to be sick and I get so nervous and… I dunno, I just freeze. I can’t do it.”

Kanan squeezed his shoulder lightly, giving him an understanding smile. “You know, it’s okay to be afraid. When you’ve been dreaming of something for so long, something you really care about, it’s scary to see it become a reality. You fear it won’t be like you expected.”

“Yeah, that’s more or less the problem,” Zeb agreed. Kanan had perfectly put into words what he was so confused about, helping him make sense of his turmoil of emotions. “It’s been such a long time, Kanan, and we were together for only three days. What if he’s changed his mind?”

His voice grew more desperate, against his best efforts to keep it under control. “What if we only thought we were in love ‘cause we were alone and under stress and everything felt more intense than normal? What if later, when he got back to his everyday life, he realized it had been just the heat of the moment, so to speak?”

“Yeah, do me a favor, mate,” Kanan said flatly. “Never use the word ‘heat’ in the same sentence where you’re talking about yourself and Kallus, okay?” Then he added in a much kinder tone: “All right, then. Is that what happened to you?”

“What?” Zeb said with a puzzled glance in his friend’s direction.

“Did you realize, after you came back, that it hadn’t been real? That you didn’t love him after all?” Kanan explained.

“No! Of course not,” Zeb replied earnestly, straightening his back almost indignantly. “It was real to me. Very real.”

“So… it could have been just as real for him, too, right?”

The Lasat shrugged helplessly, taking a deep breath. Hope and fear battled in his heart and it was overwhelming. All the emotions he had held in check for a year seemed to be flooding him at once and he was at a loss. “I dunno, Kanan. I hope so, but I honestly have no idea.”

The jedi tilted his head slightly, like was talking to a stubborn child. “And if it happens to be just as real for him, what do you imagine he must be thinking right now?”

Zeb silently stared at his friend for a long moment, realization dawning on him.

He’d been such a moron. No, no, it was worse than that. He’d been an asshole.

“Karabast,” he grumbled. “I gotta go.”

He went running down the ramp, the sound of the jedi’s soft chuckle following him. Zeb turned back to look at him without stopping and waved a hand, even though he knew the man couldn’t really see it. “Thanks, Kanan!”

“You’re welcome, buddy!” the jedi answered, but he was already speaking to Zeb’s rapidly retreating back.

 

* * *

 

“I think these clothes must be more or less your size,” the old man said, putting a neatly packaged bundle in Kallus’s hands. “But if they don’t quite fit, just ask any of the protocol droids to make whatever adjustments you may need.”

“Thank you,” Kallus answered, and put the packet under his arm.

The quartermaster’s office was a small, messy room where a human man and two Mirialan women were trying their best to coordinate the arrival of so many new soldiers and refugees. It was quite fascinating to see them move around in the cramped space without blocking each other, like a dance they must have been performing for so long they just seemed to sense where the others were at any moment. 

Kallus was impressed by their efficiency dealing with the constant influx of people, whether they were coming to ask for things or to bring new supplies that would be promptly taken through the door at the back, surely a warehouse of some kind. Their apparently chaotic system was completely different from the strict organization of the Empire, but it worked nonetheless.

“So,” the elder human said, taking a seat before his computer terminal. The man’s fingers moved over the holoscreen with astonishing speed. “Now that the clothing issue is sorted out, the only thing left is to find you a room.”

“I don’t require much, really,” Kallus said. “I’m sure anything you have for me will be fine.”

“Good, because I’m afraid you’re going to have to share, young man,” the quartermaster answered. “I hope that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, tough luck, Kallus,” said Ezra, clapping him on the back. The boy was obviously enjoying himself. “But don’t worry. With a little luck, you won’t get paired up with anyone too weird.”

“Everybody’s gonna have to share, Commander Bridger,” said the quartermaster before Kallus had a chance to answer. “There’s a lot of new people coming in, we don’t have rooms for all of them.”

Ezra’s humor cooled down instantly. “Oh, no, back to sharing again? Ah, I already miss my room on Atollon,” the boy said mournfully. “It was nice to escape Zeb’s smell for a while. Oh. I…uh…” He seemed to realize what he had just said and who was listening, because the turned a furious shade of red all of a sudden.

“There’s nothing wrong with the way he smells!” Kallus protested automatically. There was no way he could refrain from defending Zeb. Whether the Lasat would appreciate it or not was beside the point. “A little intense, maybe, but I’ve shared space with him before and I never found it bothersome.”

He considered what he’d just said and it sounded so lukewarm, so safe and proper, he felt angry with himself. Zeb deserved much better. “Actually, you know what? I think he smells great!” he added, squaring his shoulders defiantly.

“Excellent!” the quartermaster said happily. “Then I’ll assign you to Captain Orrelios’s quarters. Problem solved.”

“Wait, what?” Kallus felt panic rising in his throat. No, no, no, this was a disaster. Now Zeb would think he had specifically asked to bunk with him, he’d believe Kallus was trying to impose himself. Kriff, this would make everything awkward. “I… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

The rich, deep voice from behind him made his heart do a couple of flip-flops. He hadn’t heard that voice in way too many months and oh, kriff, how badly had he missed it. Slowly, he turned around to find Zeb’s tall figure almost obscuring the office door completely.

“Zeb,” he said breathlessly.

“Hi there,” the Lasat answered shyly.

They stared at each other for a long time, mostly forgetting there were other people in the room. Zeb gave him a hint of a smile and then he scratched the back of his head, and the familiarity of that gesture nearly made Kallus weep with joy.

The moment was interrupted by the quartermaster clearing his throat.

“So,” the old man said with a slight dose of impatience. “Shall I assign you to his room or not?”

Zeb answered ‘yes’ at the same time Kallus said ‘no’. They exchanged a look of surprise, but in the Lasat’s eyes there was hurt too.

“Karabast, I’m sorry,” Zeb apologized. “It’s okay, we’ll find you another room if you don’t want to bunk with me. No pressure.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Kallus hurried to clarify, trying to sound as rational as possible. “I simply didn’t want to presume. You don’t have to babysit me just because you recruited me, you know. I can manage on my own.”

“Babysit…” Zeb murmured, shaking his head and looking like someone who wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly, because what he’d heard was way too dumb to be possible. “Did you get hit on the head too hard or something?”

“Beg your pardon?” Kallus asked, arching his eyebrows. Of all the possible answers he could have expected, that wasn’t even in the vicinity of the wildest of them.

Ezra’s gaze was moving from Kallus to Zeb with such exasperation in his face it was a miracle he wasn’t rolling his eyes into his skull. The quartermaster, however, didn’t have that much restraint: he pointedly looked at the ceiling and sighed. 

“Perhaps you guys should take a minute to talk about it, right?” Ezra suggested, to stop the old man from losing his patience and throwing them all out of his office. Without waiting for an answer, the boy took the bundle with Kallus’s new clothes from under his arm and gently pushed the former Imperial towards Zeb and the door.

Outside, the bustle of activity guaranteed nobody would be paying attention to two people having a chat at the corner of the storeroom, but that only made Kallus feel slightly less exposed. And judging by Zeb’s body language, he was feeling just as nervous.

“It’s good to see you,” the Lasat said.

“You too. It’s been quite some time.” Kallus felt stupid the moment he said that. What would be next,  _ ‘How are you doing these days’?  _ Like they were a couple of old schoolmates at a ten year reunion?

“Yeah, a while,” Zeb answered with a sheepish grin. He studied Kallus’s face with intent, raising a hand as if to touch it but dropping it at the last moment. “Karabast, man, what did they do to you?” he asked softly.

“I’m fine, really,” Kallus said nervously, lowering his gaze. He hadn’t had time to check himself in a mirror, but judging by the comments he’d been getting —and the dull ache in his eye and lip—, he was sure he looked terrible. Not exactly the way he’d dreamed his reunion with Zeb would be. “Mostly superficial damage, nothing serious.”

“Mostly?” Zeb arched an eyebrow at him.

Kallus rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious. “I... may have a couple of bruised ribs. Not sure.”

Zeb grumbled something Kallus couldn’t understand, although it sounded threatening and he thought he heard the word ‘Thrawn’ at some point. Then the Lasat heaved a deep sigh, as if to calm himself, and his face turned serious.

“Listen, I’m sorry for not coming to say hi a little earlier,” he said, speaking in an apologetic tone. “I was… Well, to be honest I was kinda freaking out.”

Kallus felt his heart sink at that. He took a deep breath to give himself courage before speaking. “It’s okay, Zeb, I understand.”

“You do?” Zeb asked with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

“Yes, of course.” He met Zeb’s glance head on, mentally thanking his strict training for allowing him to keep his face somewhat neutral. “I always knew it wouldn’t be fair to expect you to wait all this time. It’s all right if your feelings have changed. You don’t owe me anything.”

“What?!” Zeb seemed to do some kind of double take, then shook his head as he waved his hands in front of his face. “No, no, no, no, I never said that! You got it all wrong.”

“I… what?”

“My feelings haven’t changed!” Zeb insisted. “I was keeping my distance because I was afraid maybe  _ you _ had changed your mind, and I didn’t want you to feel forced to do anything you didn’t want to.”

“Me? Change my mind?” Kallus chuckled softly. “Zeb, the only thing that’s kept me alive through this hell of a year has been the thought of seeing you again.”

He shut his mouth abruptly, worrying that perhaps he had said too much. But then Zeb grinned at him with that joyful, honest, candid smile of his, and everything was right with the universe again.

“Really?” Zeb asked, hopeful and happy and maybe a little bit smug, but Kallus didn’t care. He was way too overcome with relief to give a damn.

“Yes,” the man breathed, smiling in return. “Every single day.”

“Karabast! I’ve missed you so much,” Zeb breathed, already moving forward to wrap Kallus in a warm hug.

And it was there, in those arms, with the solid wall of Zeb’s muscles under his cheek and his scent filling his senses, that Kallus felt at home for the first time in a very, very long time.

They stayed like that for a while, reveling in the fact that they could touch again, embrace again, speak to each other again. Zeb pulled back just enough to plant the softest of kisses on Kallus’s mouth, mindful of his split lip.

“So, what do you say? Wanna be my roomate?”

Kallus arched an eyebrow at him, because honestly? The answer wasn’t obvious?

“I don’t mean nothing by it,” the Lasat added, completely misinterpreting Kallus’s gesture. “It’s just that I think you’ll be more comfortable getting paired with someone you’re already familiar with. As for the… you know, the other thing… Don’t worry, I’ll never pressure you. We can go as slow as you want.”

Kallus was about to answer that they’d already waited enough, but a sudden clenching of his stomach, like he was about to jump from a cliff, made him hold back his tongue in the last moment.

Maybe Zeb had a point. A lot had happened in the year they’d been apart. In some ways, they were not the same people who’d said their goodbyes on a remote Outer Rim planet all those months ago. They had a lot to rediscover about each other, along with all the many things they’d never had a chance to learn in the first place.

But it was okay, because now they had the time to do it. So perhaps it was a good idea to take it step by step, after all. 

There was only one thing Kallus was completely sure about: this was the most important thing that ever happened to him, and he didn’t want to ruin it by rushing into a relationship before they were both ready for it. 

“Slow is fine, if you want,” he said in the end. “Though not too slow, I hope,” he added with a mischievous smile.

Zeb’s slow grin, teeth bared and all, was all the answer he needed. Kallus felt a sweet shiver run up his spine and the hair at the nape of his neck stand up.

“You know,” Zeb said meaningfully. “I’m thinking I might skip the next couple of missions with the  _ Ghost _ and stay here, at the base. We could use a little time to, uh... reconnect, dontcha think?”

Kallus smiled widely, his heart hammering in his chest in anticipation. “I like the sound of that.”

Kriff, he was so in love it hurt. He could barely believe he was with Zeb again and they had a whole future ahead of them. Slow or fast, he didn’t give a damn. All he cared about was how to get there.

But they would figure it out. He had no doubt about that.

 

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's complete! I can't thank you all enough, really. All the kudos and comments you guys have been leaving here have made me incredibly happy. Also my eternal gratitude to my wonderful beta, [redmacallan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/redmacallan/pseuds/redmacallan), for helping me so much with this.
> 
> In case you're interested in some music to go with the fic, I made a little playlist. If you don't mind an abundance of cheesy 80's music, you can check it out in either of these links:
> 
> On Spotify: <https://open.spotify.com/user/apocrypha73/playlist/4DNoZ4uVIoWfJESCctgD24>  
> On Youtube: <https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aAkBlevKDAncD3jMrN0Y5Kt5kEjrTe1>


End file.
